The 70th Hunger Games Annie and Chris
by AuthorGemorah
Summary: Annie, despite being the daughter of a victor, is happy in life. She has her gran, her best friend Chris and her secret boyfriend Finnick. She may have lost her grandad and her parents but in the corrupt country of Panam, who hasn't? So when she is reaped as the female tribute her world is turned upside down. This is my first FanFiction so please be nice. :) Enjoy...
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys, this is my first ever fanfiction so please be nice. It's about Annie and Finnick of Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games (my absolute all time favourite). I have changed a few things for the purpose of this book. Thank you for reading, I'd love your opinion. I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE NAMES OR IDEAS, THEY ARE ALL PROPERTY OF SUZANNE COLLINS. THE ACTUAL WRITING ****IS**** MINE**

**Chapter One**

"Annie," he hisses. The sun hasn't yet risen. I turn and look at him. His eyes beg me to come back. I know he can't follow me, can't be seen with me for fear of our lives. I should go back inside, talk to him that way, but I don't want to. Why should I listen to him complaining over how hard this is for him and us, what we are, is the only way he manages to carry on? I'm tired of it. I don't want to hear it again; he doesn't get how hard this is on me too.

It's always the same. I leave after an argument. He gives me his soppy eyes, I go back inside to hear him out, and then I buy every word of it. But not this time.

I shake my head and turn back to the road. I walk just five steps and then hear a bang of a door. It makes nearly jump out of my skin. Turning around I see that he's slammed it shut. It hurts, like he's just shut me out. Maybe he has.

The rain bounces off the ground around me, splattering my legs with mud. My hair is drenched, my clothes are clinging to me. Not much of clothes either. Shorts the colour of dried up seaweed with fraying legs and an oversized shirt of Finnick's I managed to grab before leaving. I left my shoes there, my cardigan, everything I had on me.

I know I can't go home yet. My grandmother will be waiting, and I don't want to talk, not tonight. There's only one place I can go. The beach.

Ignoring the feeling of stones poking into my bare feet I begin walking in that direction. I keep to the shadows just in case, but since there are no street lamps I don't worry that much. As I pass by Christaain's house, I take the piece of paper out from behind the plant pot and pull a pencil out from under the mat to write my message. 'Meet me on the beach, A x.' It was his idea to have a secret way of communicating. Ever since we were seven we've had it this way. It was easy enough to do. I take a shell out of my pocket and slip it through a little gap in the door frame, so that when he wakes he knows I've left a message. Discreet but very effective.

Now I continue to walk to the breach. The streets are beginning to lighten now, since it's the early morning. The sea air fills my nostrils, calming me a little. The sea gulls begin to wake and join the never-ending song of the sea. I reach the jetty and grin at the scene that greets me. The ocean.

The familiar lapping of the waves against the wooden boats makes me smile. The morning sun glitters on the water reminding me of Finnick's eyes when he's happy. Even the rains stopped.

"Morning Miss Cresta," I hear a familiar voice call. I turn to my left to see Christiaan's Dad standing on his boat, the Radiant Salli. I smile in memory. My mother, that's who it's named after. He was her best friend. After she died he named the boat after her. This morning he's moving today's haul from the boat onto shore, ready to take to the fist market.

I grin at him. "Hi Mr Rif."

"Off to the cove to meet Chris?"

"Yep. How did you guess?" I ask cheekily. I turn to walk to the beach, but he stops me.

"Annie." I turn just in time for him to chuck me his coat. "You must be freezing."

I smile gratefully, tugging it round my shoulders. Then I'm off. That's what I love about Mr Rif. Even when I'm standing in shorts and a shirt, soaked through, still he doesn't pry. It's a good thing too, since I can't tell him anyway.

On the beach I smile as my toes sink into the golden sand. I go to the usual spot: through a cave to a small cove that few people know about. It doesn't take him long to join me. Chris wears his usual shorts and shirt and jacket. Sitting down next to me, he grins. "You look a mess. Wild night?"

I glare at him. He laughs. "Okay okay. I'm sorry."

My scowl softens.

"Why are you up so early?" he asks.

"Had an argument."

"Again?" he asks in exasperation.

I grunt in reply. "Well today really isn't the day to argue with him. He'll be going away for weeks. Is this how you want to see him off?"

I look at him with a frown.

_"Oh come on Annie. I was joking," Finnick says._

_"And I'm supposed to find that funny?" I ask, turning around to pick up my shirt and pull it on._

_"I know, I'm sorry. It was insensitive. Please forgive me," he begs._

_"Not this time," I say, grabbing my shorts and storming out the door into the rain._

_"Annie..."_

Chris frowns at me. "Annie?"

I blink. "Yer?"

"You do remember what today is right?"

My frown is replaced with by devastation. Of course, today is reaping day. I'd gone to Finnick to see him one last time before he disappears back to the Capital for this year's Hunger Games. I'd been so annoyed I had forgotten until now.

I groan, resting my head in my hands. Chris shakes his head. "How can you forget? We've not safe from it yet you know."

I nod in exasperation. How I hate the reaping.

Years ago, after the uprising, the Capital decided to hold an annual event, the Hunger games, where twenty-four children between the ages of twelve and eighteen would have to fight till the death with only one survivor named the Victor. This year will be the seventieth games. Chris and I (Chris being eighteen and me being seventeen) are not yet safe from the reapings, but since we've made it this far I'm sure I'll be okay for the last two years... right?

"How many times have you been entered?" I ask, looking up.

"More than wanted. You?" he sighs.

"Not many. You know, with my grandmother and stuff..." He does know. If we need extra tesserae then we risk getting our names put in more times. We're not poor, in fact, we're quite well off. My grandmother is a previous victor so we'll never be poor, or have the need to sign up for extra tesserae. Chris on the other hand is not so lucky. As much as we try to help them out, Chris does have to sign up for extra tesserae. It makes me feel guilty but I can't change anything, it's the way this world is.

"Hadn't you better go get pretty or something," he asks, pulling on my soaked hair and dragging a smile out of me. I give him a shove and stand up, beginning to walk towards the cave. "Annie." I turn round to face him. "Remember what I said, yeah?"

I hesitate, and then nod. As much as I hate it I know he's right.

As I walk back I see that the streets are empty, deserted even. At my house I pause before knocking on the door. My grandmother opens it. "Morning dear. Couldn't sleep?"

She knows exactly where I was, that I could sleep fine. But she also knows that there are cameras everywhere, so she doesn't push things. I give her a small smile and wrap my arms around her. "Just two more years my sweet, just two more years."

I go to my room and after scrubbing myself clean numerous times I am finally satisfied. On my neatly made bed - which hasn't been slept in for weeks - a dress has been laid out. It's simple, white with a tight corset and a flowing skirt. The fabric is soft, with a pattern you see only when you look closely. Then there are matching white pumps and a white band for my hair. I dress, brushing my hair so that it flows around my shoulders. When it dries it will turn into beautiful brown waves.

I notice something else. On my side table. A small red box. I walk over and open it. Inside is the most beautiful necklace with a dedicate chain and a shell. Inside the shell it has my name engraved in it. I smile slightly and put it on too.

"Stunning." I spin around to see Finnick standing in my bedroom door, smiling at my reflection in the mirror. I scowl, which only makes him laugh.

'Remember about what I said, yeah?' Chris's words echo in my head. I roll my eyes and try to smile.

"I am sorry you know," he begins but I shake my head.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologise. Not anymore," I say quietly.

He sighs with relief. "Thank God. I didn't want to leave you after that," he says.

"It could still be me you know. I'm still seventeen."

"Don't remind me. You're not going in. Not if I can help it."

"But you can't," I begin but he presses his finger to my lips.

"I'm the famous Finnick Odair, right?"

I smile sadly. He is. He won the games four years ago. My grandmother, Mags to him, was his mentor. Once again, this year they'll both be mentoring, so they'll be off to the Capital on one of their many trips. I'll miss them both like crazy, but I doubt it will be any easier for them.

He takes a step closer, stroking my cheek so gently it sends shivers down my spine. "Don't worry about me. We'll be back before you know it."

I nod. The next thing I know he's kissing me. "Good luck," he whispers, and then he's gone.

My grandmother takes his place in the door frame. "The spitting image of your mother," she chokes. Then she frowns. "Looks a little tight on you my dear."

I nod. I had noticed it too, though a few weeks ago when I'd tried it on it fitted fine. She shakes her head, dismissing the subject.

"Who'd you think it will be this year?" I ask. My grandmother has had some freakily accurate guesses.

"It's not going to be an easy year. I'm feeling siblings, or something close to it," she says, frowning in a worried way.

I feel my stomach knot. How horrid. A sibling or a cousin or something. It would be unbearable. It does say something else. It won't be me or Chris. I don't have any siblings, Chris only has a brother and neither of us has cousins.

"Ones a volunteer too," she sighs.

"Why would you volunteer when your sibling is the other tribute?" I ask.

"You don't know the situation. They may be volunteering for a younger sibling that also got reaped. They would be saving an orphan or even a cripple. Maybe even for the sake of protecting their sibling. The latter seems most likely in this case."

There is a silence between us as we both wonder what horrors this year will bring. Finally my grandmother takes a deep breath. "Well, we should go. Wouldn't want to be late now would we?"

I snort, but follow her out the door and head to the main square, where the reaping will be held, and one boy and one girl with meet their fate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Chapter. Hope you enjoyed the first. Yes the reaping. I like this chapter alot. Definatly better than the first but what do you think? Please let me know. Thank you and enjoy chapter two :)**

**Chapter Two**

I stand in the roped off section near the front, waiting, watching. The stage has been built, the screens set up, and now all we need is an escort to arrive ready for the reaping. As we wait the square gets more and more full, the heat rising as we are pressed against each other with the new arrivals. I'm standing among girls that I recognise from school. Some of them have tried to be my friend due to my connections with Finnick, but after he saw how much his flirting with them hurt me he barely looked at them again. He's not interested in anyone but me, yet when he flirts I can't help but get jealous. The women of the Capital are different. He has to do that otherwise gran and I die, but at home no one is forcing him. I eventually decided to stay away from them. All of us were happier when they stay away. That includes Chris. Girls become friends with him to get to Finnick too, which probably hurts him even more than me.

I look to the right of the stage, where Finnick and my grandmother stand with one other victor. Their faces are emotionless, staring above the crowd of people towards the ocean that lies beyond. They are trying to forget the day they were reaped.

Suddenly a figure struts to centre stage. My mouth drops. This time it's a different escort, this one sillier than the last. He has blue hair, green skin, purple lips, red tattoos and yellow eyes. He wears orange clothes, looking like a walking rainbow. A ridicules one too. And his name is Stan Lockersmith.

"Welcome all to District 4," he bellows, in a voice that doesn't in anyway match his looks. I've always thought it strange that they welcome us to our own district, but I guess they're just doing their jobs.

After the usual speech about the honour and sacrifice of a tribute, he gets down to business. "Of course, first the girls." He waddles over to the plastic ball to his right, which of course if filled with millions of paper slips with everyone's name on. Will it be me? I doubt it. There are poorer kids with their name many more times than me. And there are the Careers.

The Careers are kids that have trained all their lives for this. They come from District 1, 2 and 4, although not everyone from those Districts are like them. Those people, the ones who have trained, are dangerous, likely winners and often too eager to go in, volunteering for the chosen kids. I often hope it's one of them rather than a small twelve year old. They have so much more chance.

Please be a Career, please please please be a Career.

But it's not.

"And the girl is... Annie Cresta."

It's me.

My heart stops. People all round me turn and stare. I look at Chris, his mouth wide open, a look of shock all over his face. I look at my Grandmother, then Finnick and watch as their faces' pale, my Grandmother becoming a shaking wreck. Then I look from the ground to the man at the front.

"Come on up, Miss Cresta," he calls.

I swallow hard, trying to stop myself from being sick, from running away. I force myself to walk forward and climb the steps, ignoring the whispers of 'that's Mags's granddaughter'. As I am pulled to the left of Stan I let reality sink in. This is it. I am District 4's female tribute. I have no volunteers. This is it.

Stan walks to the other plastic ball. "Now for the boys..."

I am still letting the reality of it all sink in as my grandmother's prediction echoes in my mind. She was wrong. I have no siblings, no cousins. Or had I been wrong? Mr Rif is like a father to me, Dekklan and Chris like my brothers. Oh god. The idea makes me want to vomit, but my grandmother is rarely wrong. 'Siblings or something like it'.

"Dekklan Rif."

Once again I see Chris's mouth drop open. His brother, his fourteen year old brother, has been picked. And she predicted a volunteer. I close my eyes briefly, waiting for Chris to react. I'm not kept waiting long.

"I volunteer," he yells.

I open my eyes and see him coming towards the stage. I don't know what's worse, fighting Dekklan or fighting Chris, but one thing's for sure: it's going to be hell.

The moment Chris reaches the stage he is forced to stand on the other side of Stan. Stepping back, Stan grins with glee. "Shake hands."

I lean across and let out my hand, but he takes it further. He fakes a kiss on my cheek, whispering in my ear, "We'll get out of this mess."

I smile sadly and give a slight shake of my head. "May the odds be ever in your favour," Stan smiles and then hurries us to the Justice building.

Inside I am pushed into a room and the doors slam behind me. No-one comes to see me. I didn't think they would. Grandmother and Finnick are mentors, they can't come, and the only other person I expect to see is Chris, but that won't happen. Well, almost no-one.

I do have two visitors. Mr Rif and Dekklan. Dekklan runs over to me and bursts into tears. I know why. He was being strong for Chris but now it's too much. I wrap my arms around him, letting him cry. I'm the strong one now.

Eventually he lets go and Mr Rif takes his place. "Be strong child," he says. I nod, overcome with numbness. "It won't be easy, but you are like a daughter to me. Pray one of you comes home," he says.

I am shocked. He doesn't want me dead for Chris's sake. If fact, he isn't like that at all. Although he probably does want Chris to win, he just hopes the victor will be one of the two of us.

I hug them both. I don't know what I want. To live? To die for Chris? Or maybe both. I can't have it that way though. It's one or the other. I have to decide.

They are about to leave when Dekklan places a small gift into my hand. "See you soon Annie," he says shakily. Then they're gone.

I look down at the gift, finding a small starfish he must have found on the beach. I smile at the thought, but as tears begin to fall, I let out my fright. As soon as I leave I will have no chance to feel sorry for myself again.

My time is up. Two peacekeepers come in and pull me roughly to my feet. I'm dragged to the door. Turning my head to the right, I see Chris in the same situation. "Come on, let go of her. Is that how you treat a lady? She won't run. Drag me instead," he growls.

The peacekeepers loosen their hold, letting me walk with them on either side of me, while he is dragged. Outside we are pushed into a car with Stan in the middle and driven to the station in silence.

Inside the car, my mouth drops open. It's all so shiny new, with delicious looking food of plenty, the comfiest looking seats and the softest carpet. It looks like heaven, so much so that Chris and I stand out like a fish out of water but it's all for us. I look at him. Its feels wrong to be here. We never get this kind of treatment elsewhere.

Stan, who seems to annoy Chris as much as me, leaves us to find the mentors. I turn to Chris. He rushes over, scooping me up and hugging me tight. "I'm sorry," I choke.

"Don't be. This shouldn't have happened to us."

"But it has."

"Yes. But I'm not going to stop fighting... ever."

I pull away. This must mean that he's in it to win it. Which means killing me. I look into his eyes, but I see no anger, no hate, just determination.

He must see my confusion, and maybe my hurt, because he looks hurt too. "I will never hurt you, you know that right?" I blink. Then my suspicion dissolves. This is Chris, the boy I've known since birth. He held me in his arms at only three days old. He's more of a brother than a friend. And now I'm on a train to the capital with him, where we'll both compete in the Hunger Games. With only one Victor. That means one of us will die.

I look at the floor, trying to forget the thought. "You know that right?" he asks harshly, shaking me.

I nod. "You'll never hurt me," I repeat, and he seems to relax. "And I'll never hurt you," I add for good measure.

"No, you won't." He diverts his eyes from mine, taking in our surroundings. "Look at all this food. It can't get much better than this."

"Oh but it can," a voice behind me makes me jump. Finnick stand in the doorway, looking dashing as usual... and doesn't he know it.

I supress a smile, just sigh with relief. Who knows whose watching, who's listening now. He looks from me to Chris, as if taking in the view. It must be hard, seeing both his best friend and his girlfriend standing where two tributes should be. I see it momentarily flicker across his face, but then he pulls himself together. "Nice to see you again. I've seen you both around school, and of course, Annie, your Mag's granddaughter, right?"

I nod. Playing it this way. I should be hurt, but I know he's trying to protect us, both of us. I don't know why he pretends not to know Chris as well as he does, since it's not like he could be a threat, but maybe I'm wrong.

He holds out a hand to Chris. "The famous Finnick Odair," Chris says, shaking it.

Finnick turns to me. He kisses me on both cheeks. "Finnick," I say quietly.

We stand in silence. We all think the same things. Which two of us will be reunited at the end, if any?

I'm the first to avert my eyes. "So Finnick, as our mentor, presuming you are, which of these dishes are best?" Chris says, breaking the silence.

"It's all delicious, rich mind. Don't have much if you're not used to it. Start with the soup. And as for mentor, I'll be both your mentors. Mags has decided to be vice mentor, since the pressure of the situation has made her emotional," Finnick says.

"Grandma..." I whisper under my breath, remembering her for the first time. My fears had been with Chris and how we would both work it out, but now I wonder how she's coping.

"She's fine. She just doesn't want to be responsible for your death, that's all. It'll be hard for her, being family. You understand right?"

I nod. I do, but I thought maybe she'd come to see me.

"She'll be coming to supper. She has important business to tend to at this moment," he says gently. I nod again, but my heart sinks. More important business than me.

Chris rests a hand on my shoulder but says nothing. I turn my attention to the food.

I start with the soap, knowing Finnicks warning of its richness will be true. It is delicious. Like nothing I've ever eaten before. When I say this Finnick just smiles slightly and sadly.

We sit down on the comfiest seats we can find, sinking into them, finding they are heated for extra comfort. Christ turns to Finnick. "So..."

"Later. You both vaguely know what happens, so I won't bore you with the whole speech. Go eat, settle in, get changed and we'll call you for supper, when the real work begins," he says, then leaves the way he came.

We're left sitting comfortably yet somehow stiff, knowing we don't belong here. I turn to Chris. "He does have a point. We should change," I say.

"Yes, but all I want to do is eat more food," he grins. Then, grabbing one of the cakes he leave the room from the exit Finnick had pointed at. I sit there for a moment, wondering how many more times I'll see that smile before I lose it forever. Then I grab a cake too and follow him to the exit.

I find the room marked T.G. easily enough. The one next door says T.B. which I guess must be Chris's. Tribute boy and tribute girl. That's all we are to the capital, isn't it?

Inside my room I take a shower, and then dress in a simple deep blue jumper and stone pants. With my shell necklace back on - which I suspect to be from Finnick, since money to him is no problem - I lie down on the bed and wait. A gentle knock at my door makes me jump. I open it and see Chris. "Hay," he smiles.

I step aside for him to come in. "I didn't want to be alone. Sorry," he says, his grey, storm like eyes distant. Dekklan and his father, that's who he thinks of.

He sits down on my bed. "Why us?" I ask.

"Because we were picked," Chris replies sharply.

"Were we? Or do they know the truth about me and Finnick?" I ask. Chris is one of the few people that knows the truth. It is through him that Finnick and I met. He and my grandmother, that's all. Or so I thought till now.

"No one knew. They wouldn't take me otherwise, would they?"

"Maybe I was planned but you were fluke, or maybe just thrown in for good measure," I suggest.

"It wasn't me though, was it? It was Dekklan," he frowns at the memory.

"Maybe to get you to volunteer..."

"Can we just forget it? Please? Whether it was rigged or not has no matter. We're both going in, end of discussion," he snaps.

I frown and turn around. "You've changed your tune."

"Yer well I wasn't thinking straight."

I look down at my feet. Giving up. He's giving up already. But with a shake of his head he seems to snap out of it. "Come on. No point moping around here is there?"

I stand up and follow him to the living room. I had no idea time had passed so quickly. Inside supper has been set out, with Finnick talking to my grandmother. Grandma...

I burst through the door and fling myself at her. Chris smiles. Finnick stops her from falling backwards. But it's her, smiling down at me, even if it's a sad, pained smile. My grandma...

The meal passes quickly. We talk little of the games. The wound is fresh and still sore. Instead we discuss food and as many things as we can that doesn't remind us of home or our terrible fate. I sit between grandma and Chris, with Finnick and Stan opposite. Sometimes I forget where I am but Finnick is practically ignoring me, so it's not hard to remember again.

In the end I take and early night. Crying wears me out much more quickly than usual. I lie in bed for hours, thinking over my situation, but it doesn't help. If anything it makes it worse.

As I'm about to give up hope of all sleep I hear my door open and shut. I roll over and see Finnick standing over me. I shuffle over and he scrambles in, wrapping his arms around me and gently stroking my hair. "I've spoken to Chris."

"And?" I ask.

"Your safe for the moment," He says and then nuzzles into my neck. Yes, I'm safe... for the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Heres chapter three, which is dedicated to my first ever reader, AbbyMellark21 and as a thanks for helping me sort out some IT problems, to SapphireShelle91 aswell. I hope you enjoy and once again, let me know what you think...**

**Chapter Three**

I wake up with a jump. I had been dreaming of the night thirteen years ago that I had lost my parents on. He had died on a boat after it sank. Mr Rif, his fellow Sailor, made it back alive, but not my father. Drowned. Mr Rif, being my mother's best friend, broke the news to her, but she had been ill, and the news almost killed her. Almost. The pills did the last bit for her. I had walked into her room that morning to find her pale, cold and lifeless. My grandmother took me away and I never saw either of them again.

I don't cry out. Just lie there quietly, shaking. Finnick doesn't seem much happier in sleep either. His face is set in a grim expression, his jaw clenched, his brow knitted into a frown. His arms are wrapped around me in their usual protective way and they're tightening, as if he's trying to keep me out of his dreams, or maybe he's trying to break out.

I shake myself out of my frozen state and roll over, or try to. I wake him up, whispering his name repeatedly. His eyes flicker open and he relaxes. "Morning," he whispers.

I smile, pretending we're at home in his bed, not in my bed on a train heading to the Capital. He ignores it too. Kissing my nose he decides to save his talk for later. That time will soon stove, so I keep quiet and bite my tongue, not trusting myself to speak.

As I predicted the bell for only an hour away sounds. I dress it the clothes that Finnick says are Capital standard, and stare at myself in the mirror. He comes to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me. I manage a small smile. "You'll be fine," he assures me.

I pull myself away. Stepping outside my cabin I check that no-one is around. Only Chris, but he knows about us, so it's fine. "Safe," I hiss.

Finnick emerges from the room and pads down the corridor to his cabin to change. Chris tilts his head in my direction, but he's grinning. I laugh. "Come on."

He follows me the living space carriage, where once again the most delicious spread has been laid out for our breakfast. Grandma is deep in conversation with Stan when we walk in. When she sees us she walks over to us. "When you're in the arena you would be able to eat much. So go and eat as much as possible without throwing up. Okay?" she says. I turn to the food. Eating as much as possible won't be a problem, it's the keeping it down that will prove difficult. I take a plate, piling it high with eggs, bacon, toast, fried fish, and everything else set out. I look at Chris's plate. He looks at mine and raises an eyebrow. I smile guiltily. Then grinning he piles his higher than mine. Clearly he was trying to be polite.

At the table we dig in. The room is silent besides the low muttering between Stan and Grandma. They look at me, taking in every detail. I hear Grandma whisper "Such beautiful eyes," and Stan replies "And such fabulous hair." Then they see me glance at them out of the side of my eye and they turn their attention to Chris. Now they talk in lower voices.

The door swings open and Finnick stumbles in, wearing a sea blue shirt and black pants. Sitting down in a chair he rests him head in his hands. I say nothing, but Grandma is not so restrained. "It's sleeping beauty. How kind of you to grace us with your presence."

I see Stan purse his lips while Chris suppressing a smile. Finnick looks up at Grandma and I see for the first time bags under his eyes. "Didn't sleep well." Liar. He slept pretty well. And he didn't have scruffy hair or bags under his eyes when he left my room. Must have been his own little touch to make it seem as though we spent the night apart. Protecting me again.

"I bet you didn't," Grandma smirks, and I see Finnick shoot her a look. My cheeks burn red so I look at my food and hope we aren't being watched.

"So what's the plan?" Chris asks, trying to change the subject.

"Tonight as you know is the Chariots parade. When you reach the Capital you'll both be whizzed off the remake centre. Don't resist anything. Then your stylist will work with you and in the evening the parade will begin. It'll be a busy busy day, so you'll need as much energy as possible. Not that that seems to be a problem," he says, shooting a look at our plates.

Finnick suppressing a smile, and taking a plate fills his high too. When Stan glares at him he says innocently, "Gonna need my energy right?"

Grandma chuckles and goes back to talk to Stan. The carriage suddenly loses its natural light, and glancing at the windows I guess we're in the tunnel that leads to the Capital. Then we're in the station. "Walk side by side. You're a team remember. Annie, smile, and Chris, link your arm through hers. Do exactly what I say," Finnick demands.

I look at Grandma. "He knows what he's doing," she says.

So we do exactly as we're told, arm in arm, smiling at the people around us. Finnick leaves a different way. Capital women love him. He wants them to remember us, but if he walks with us, they'll only have eyes for him, so he takes a secret way.

He's right. As soon as we are off the train we're whizzes off to the remake centre.

I lie on a metal table as every hair on my body is ripped off me. My hair is washed, along with my body, with lotions that smell so strong I can hardly breathe, but love them all the same. I'm then oiled down and taken to a room and left there alone.

The door opens and closes. "I'm impressed," a voice says. A woman with blue hair highlighted with green, and the palest green skin possible. "You didn't turn down anything. Most people make a fuss."

I smile slightly. "Stand up. Let's have a look at you." I stand up. "Mmmm, yes. Aha, okay," she says as she walks around me. "Excellent. I have just the thing," she smiles as my prep team walks back in. "Natural, and I think we'll go with free," she instructs them then leave. They seem to understand. Applying little make-up they begin to do my nails and hair. "How pretty you looked at the reaping," one twitters.

"And the boy..." another says.

"Chris," I say.

"Yes. So handsome. You two will look great together," she says. They chatter on about nothing in particular until they're done. When my stylist re-enters she smiles and nods. They seem pleased, like children just praised by a hero. Then they leave. "Close your eyes," she says.

I do, letting her dress me. "I don't know your name," I say quietly.

"Hum, oh Kyliea," she says. She adjusts this, and fixes that until she's entirely happy. Then she turns me round and steps back. "Open your eyes," she says. I do. She's standing by a mirror, smiling. I look in the mirror and gasp. I'm wearing a stunning dress. The top is green, with a deeper green belt. Then the skirt flows down to my ankles, but has a cape attached at the waist. Half my hair has been pulled back into ponytail while the rest is flowing down in curls. I'm even wearing a tiara. I look amazing.

"This is it?" I ask. I can't believe it. Usually the parade costumes are much more... ridiculous than this.

"Well, your mentor said to do you justice and when I saw your eyes I knew just the dress for you. I made it years ago but hadn't yet found the right person to wear it. It would be wasted on anyone else."

I smile. "You'll have to work hard to beat this for the Interview," I say.

She grins and says "I'm sure I'll be able to find something."

In the bottom floor of the remake centre the Chariots wait. Tributes, mentors, stylists, escorts, even games makers bustle about, making last minute changes and giving orders. White horses are strapped to our chariot. I give them pats. "Seriously Annie, you are about the worst person go be reaped."

I shoot Chris a look but I don't mind too much. To be honest I agree. I am about the worst person to be picked. I couldn't hurt a fly. I once saw a shark being gutted and cried for weeks. "Grandma pointed out that it had tried to kill Mr Rif, but I still cried.

Chris is wearing an open neck shirt the same colour of my dress. Then he wears black shorts and a cape. Unlike mine the cape is attached at the shoulders. He too is wearing a crown. We are Chris and Annie, king and queen of the ocean.

Helping me only the chariot behind District Three, Chris steps up next to me. "How do we play this?" I ask.

"Friendly I guess. Interact with the audience maybe. Most of all we've got to be a team," Chris says.

"How?"

"Link arms, hold hands, something like that," he says.

Then the anthem starts and district 1 is on, then 2, next 3. Suddenly the horses begin forward and we're out onto the streets, the Capital screaming and cheering so loudly I can barely hear myself think.

I catch sights of us on the screens. Our capes stream out behind us, my hair blowing back too, making us look like a river or the ocean. We're rulers of the sea, District royalty. I bet the crowd loves that.

They're mostly screaming for District Two, with some for District One, but some have seen us. I look at Chris. "Now?" he asks.

"Now," he smiles. Taking my hand he holds it up. I smile and wave as does he. I even venture to blowing kisses which makes the Capital fall over each other trying to catch them. Soon everyone is cheering not for District 1, 2 or even 4 but for Chris and Annie. I smile even more. It's worked.

We've come to the end of our ride and after a brief speech from President Snow, we ride to the training centre. Inside we are taken to the elevator. I've never ridden in an elevators before. Chris grins. He loves it. I'm not so keen. It makes me feel sick. Not soon enough, the ride comes to an end and we're on the fourth floor.

I'm not surprised at the sight. The room is huge, like the biggest compartment ever. It's all modernized, with chandeliers, and art I can't work out everywhere. At one point I ask Stan what a strange green thing is, and he laughs hysterically, as if I told his the funniest joke. Grandma later explains that it was a chair.

We each have massive rooms, mine and Chris's on the other side of the apartment to Grandma, Finnick and Stan's, though I doubt Finnick will spend much time in his.

We eat dinner almost immediately. We don't bother to change. I want to stay in this dress for as long as possible. A waitress comes over with a napkin to cover it with, so that I don't destroy it. I shoot her a grateful smile of thanks. She's an Avox, a criminal from the districts. They have their tongues cut out as punishment, and it's a crime itself to talk to them. She gives a small nod, so I know she saw it.

Eventually, when I've stuffed myself silly again, I leave to table for bed. Grandma has explained that apart from training, the next two most important things we can do is sleep and eat.

My room is massive too. The biggest bed, with a huge window looking out on the streets of the Capital and an on suite. I don't know where to start. I notice the little starfish sitting on the table besides my bed and pick it up. I wonder if Chris has a gift from Dekklan. I let the first lot of tears fall. I wish I could tell him Chris will be okay, but I can't.

Eventually I hear the door open and close so whipping away my tears I compose myself. It's Grandma, which takes me back.

She runs a bath for me, showing me which buttons to press. Then she sits by my side as I soak in the bath, covered in bubbles and more lovely smelling essentials.

"What's wrong?" she asks and I realize I'm frowning.

"Oh, it's nothing," I begin, but she smiles sadly, knowingly.

"Wondering how you can win without Chris dieing?"

I stare open mouthed at her. She read my mind. "You can't. I've been there. In my games I was against my sister's boyfriend. He was also my best friend. I wanted to win for my family, but how could I live with the death of my best friend and sister's boyfriend? Well I did. Now I have a granddaughter," she says.

"But you're not happy," I point out. "And you lost your sister and with her your mother and father. Was it really worth it?"

"I lost my sister because of Gret. If I had died he'd have lost her too. And my mother and father left because it wasn't safe for them anymore. If they pretended not to be close then the Capital would have nothing on me... unlike Finnick," she adds. "And anyway, I wouldn't have you if I hadn't have won. But sometimes I wish neither of us had lived. At least then our loved ones would be safe."

"If I win you and Finnick won't be safe will you," I say quietly.

"Honey we'll never be safe. As victors we never were. Neither were you and you never will be now. Its Chris who needs to worry," she sighs.

"My games will be similar to yours won't they?" I say miserably.

"Oh you can count on them being torturous anyway. The difference will be that I didn't have a Tribute fighting for my life instead of theirs," she says. Then she gets up and leaves.

I get ready and dry myself down. In bed I snuggle down and try to forget the whole conversation. Three hours of playing the conversation over and over again later, Finnick creeps in. He snuggles up, and finally I feel more relaxed. He kisses my forehead and then snuggles down too, ready to bare the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**This Chapter is dedicated to my best friend JasSpaz. Thank you so much Jas for everything, especially reading all my books and being my editor (joint with ilovedoodle). Love ya ;)**

**Chapter Four**

I wake with a start, sprinting from my bed to the bathroom and vomiting up most of yesterday's dinner. Finnick holds my hair out of the way, his face full of concern. "You okay?" he asks, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Yer. Rich food," I say. I brush my teeth and then get dressed. Finnick slips out of the room to go to his cabin. I take a few minutes to compose myself, then head out to breakfast. Chris is up, talking to Finnick about strategies, with Grandma and Stan listening in. I go and take the last seat, between Finnick and Grandma.

"Morning," Grandma smiles, then frowns. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Better now," I say weakly. Then my eyes meet the plate of food, piled up high, lying in front of me and I resist squealing with delight. I pick up the bacon and stuff it in, forgetting all about this mornings mishap.

"Wow, easy," Finnick says. "Don't want to feel unwell again do you?"

I shake my head, managing to slow a little, but still finishing the entire plate. Only the do I realize it shouldn't have. "Excuse me," I say and rush back to my bathroom there I vomit up my meal all over again.

"You should pace yourself," a voice makes me jump. Chris. He must have snuck in after me.

"I'm fine," I grumble. Well, as fine as you can be after being sick.

"Really? You don't seem it."

"Fine. Never been better," I snap, and immediately feel bad.

"Okay, sorry I asked," he says, turning to sit on the bed. I'm surprised ge doesn't walk out like he usually does when I'm in this mood.

I walk over to sit next to him. "Sorry. Rich food and nerves don't mix."

"Tell me about it," he sighs, putting his arm around me.

"We need to stop freaking out," I say, resting my head on his shoulder.

"We? More like you," he says.

Grabbing a pillow I bash him round the head. Laughing, he grabs one too, and soon we're breathless and laughing so hard tears roll down our faces. He won. Now I know who will win the games, but whom better to die for than Chris?

I haven't yet accepted my fate. I'll survive for as long as possible. You never know, he might just die before me and then there'll only be me left, but I know that we're in this together. Like he said, Chris will never hurt me.

Truth aside, he has managed to cheer me up. Maybe Chris is the key to baring the games.

Planting a kiss on my forehead he grins. "Come on Mrs Odair," he pulls me out the door.

"I wish," I mumble.

"Maybe one day," he says. _That's if I survive_, I think to myself. _And even then it's highly unlikely. _

Back at the table no-one asks anything about my abrupt escape. My plate has been refilled, but with much less food, and only the dishes that are gentle on the stomach. This time I slow down, stopping when I feel full rather than pushing it, and succeed in keeping it down. I have to fight against all instinks that tell me to continue, but even with half a plate still full I have to force myself to hide my grin.

"Training starts today, so you've got to be on top form," Finnick begins. His next question puzzles me at first, since he should know already, but then I realize it's more for prying ears and eyes than actual curiosity. "What skills do you have?"

"I could sword fight my brother and win every time, but since he's younger than me and it was play I doubt that helps much," Chris offers. He's playing it down of course. All of us with the exception of Stan knows he is our District champion at stick fighting.

"I can swim quite well," I shrug.

"She's excellent, and she leaves out that she can throw spears. Chris can wrestle too," Grandma chips in.

"Biased much?" I smile fondly.

"Well, in that case, you should both stick together. Go to the weapons section to show off, be careers. Neither of you are, but what 1 and 2 don't know can't hurt them, or in this case it can. Just make sure you go to some of the other stools - the survival stools - ones careers don't often visit. They can be very sloppy when it comes to which berries are poisonous or not. Besides, the information will come in handy, especially if you don't share it," Finnick instructs.

I can't help but smile as I know how Finnick likes to be in control. It makes him feel safer, so if controlling me makes him feel like I'mm safer, and with his expertese I don't doubt I am, then thats alright with me. After all, he is my mentor, boyfriend or not. Don't get me wrong. Never in a million years will I be a heatless killing mashine, but it could save both our lives and to be honest, do I have a choicee.

After excepting his advice as orders, we're sent to dress in our training outfits. Black tops with red sleeves and the number 4 on it. Then we pull on plain black trousers and boots and we're off.

We're one of the first people down there. Chris nudges me. "Look confident. You're a career, their a career. Mingle," he begins walking over.

"What?" I protest, but grabbing my hand he drags me over to where District 1 and 2 strand discussing. "Hi. I'm Chris, this is Annie. District 4," he says brightly, holding out his hand. Offering us as Allies. But I don't want to be Allies. I just want Chris.

The boy from one looks him up and down, looks at me, smirks, then takes his hand. "This is Vine. I'm Tiger."

"And we're Butch and Marla. What do you think?" Adds the girl from 2, a maliciousness to her voice, sending shivers down my spine. I know already that Marla and Tiger are the most evil of the four, but with one will be leader I don't know.

I wonder what she means. What do I think of their names, because to be honest, their absolutely ridiculous. Luckily Chris is on the ball.

"Not much. District Six had a strong one for once, but even then I don't think there's much to worry about there. The rest will be easy," he nudges me again.

"Oh, yer, same," I say, but to be honest I have no idea.

Tiger smirks again so I glare at him. He raises his eyebrow which agitates me more.

I stay quiet. I know that we were instructed to be careers, and if we didn't, Finnick would kill us for sure, but was it necisery to pretend that we can kill as eaily as them. And Chris hasn't even given the other kids a chance. Hopefully its for the best and we'll survive for as long as possible. That is, if they haven't slit my throat within the first five seconds of the games.

Soon the entire room is full, all twenty-four of us here and mingling. We're sent to specific pads on the floor, so that we can be weighed so the instructed explains. I look up to the balcony where the games makers sit, surveying us. They point at the little girl from 12 and laugh, which sends a cold knife through my heart. They've already written her off.

Then they point to the careers. From Tigre to Vine, Butch to Marla, then Chris and finally me. They seem excited when they see Chris. "An excellent candidate for winner. With a victor like that Snow could make truckloads of money," I see one whisper. They're already thinking for making Chris into a slave just like Finnick. A sex slave. They know he has family. They could easily force him to be one of them. But I don't think he'll agree. I'd better warn him anyway.

Then they see me. One old man raises his eyebrow, as if thinking the same as Tiger, but he keeps quiet. The others mutter to themselves, look down at a little screen they have in front of them and then look back again. Oh no, please say they don't know about Finnick and me.

I turn my attention back to the instructor. "Although we all know you want to grab a sword, hand to hand combat will only kill a few of you. Make sure you check out the survival stations, they can be the difference between life and death."

I look at Chris, who nods me over. "Let's go with the careers to the weaponry and then spend tomorrow at the survival stools after we've established ourselves as one of them."

"But we're not one of them," I protest.

"Not yet," he agrees but heads over anyway. I heave a sigh and follow him anyway. At the weaponry section, the other careers are already sizing up the weapons. Vine and Butch are experimenting with the weapons they don't recognise, but they all have at least one weapon they are familiar with close by.

Tiger takes a mace and begins battering a dummy until the fake blood spills out, making me gulp. I hope I don't die to that. And then there's Marla, spinning an axe around her head, a deadly, greedy grin on her face. It even shows up her muscles almost bursting from her arms. Vine takes some knives, throwing them accurately but nothing to shout about. Butch plays around with different weapons and seems confident with all of them. They'll all secure at least an eight in training, if not more. Me, I have hardly any skills. Swimming isn't exactly going to save my life and neither is running. There is no way I can win this.

Instead I deside to make my grandma proud and cherish the last few days I have with each of them while I can. I'll do as grandma always says. Try my best and know I can't do any more than that, and then who cares what happens.

I know I'll never see my Grandma again, the woman who has raised me since I can remember. Or Finnick, my boyfriend, the boy who has changed my life and to top it all off, I will die infront of my best friend and nearly it get any worse? Aparently it can, not that I know this just yet.

Chris points to the spears and then heads to the swords. I pick it up and study it, from the head all the way to the tail. Despite that this is most like weapon I'll use, I don't yet want to use my tool of death. I pick up a bow and arrow and give it a go. I manage to shoot at the person and manage to hit the dummy properly, enough to give the enemy a wound, but not well enough to kill. I will never kill malisiously, just in self defence. I pick up a sword and almost immediately drop it, so I decide against that. In the end I practice shooting with a bow and arrow until I hit the target right where the heart should be. An instructor walks over and watches me. "You're good. Now try this," she says, pulling a lever so that the dummies begin to move. I take aim, and shoot. I hit the leg on each one so that they stop struggling, then I shoot them in the heart. "Good. How are you with other weapons?"

I glance at the spears. "Give it a try," she says and hands me one. I throw it and hit it straight in the heart first time. She pulls the lever again and I still take them down in one throw. She smiles, impressed by my skill, and then walks off.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I knew I could spear, but I had no idea I had such talent. I didn't practice much at home. Occasionally at the weekends when I was annoyed I'd go to the beach and practice, to let off some steam, but surely you have to practice to be good at something. Maybe I'm wrong.

Chris comes to stand by me. "Not bad. Like your grandfather," he smiles sadly, and then he's gone. I frown. I don't remember much about my Grandfather, which is strange, since he died when I was twelve, so you should have some memories at least. Besides, Chris is only one year older than me, so surely he would have fewer memories than me. I wish I did have memories. Everyone I know said he was a great man, that he was there for me when my parents died in a boat accident. I make a note to talk to Chris about it later, see what he meant.

The day is over quicker than I expected, so we head back to the apartment. I sink into a chair, curling up to get comfy, smiling at the instant relief. I'm exhausted. My arms ache from all the throwing and shooting. Chris sits across from me, ingrossed in some fancy electronic thing from the capital.

Finnick joins Chris and I. "What happened?"

Chris opens his mouth to explain, but for once I take it, after all, I wouldn't want people thinking I lean on him. "We mixed with the careers. They seem to have excepted Chris, but not me yet."

"They were impressed with your shooting and spear skills. Asked if you were the dark horse, they did," Chris breaks in.

"What did you say?" I ask sitting up slightly.

"I said of course you were. Luckily for you they took it lightly. They're not worried about you..."

"Which means?" I ask.

"It means you won't be their first kill. They want the strong, but not those who will turn on them and kill them easily," he says.

"You know I could never do that," I say.I'm not like that. I could never kill for the sake of it.

"But they don't know that. For all they know you could be playing weak."

I open my mouth to say something, then don't. "I need to convince them what you see is what you get with you," he sighs.

I look away. Finnick and I are both thinking about the same thing. Everything but my relationship with the famous victor, Finnick Odair. Apart from that...

"Why would you do that for me?" I ask.

"How can you..." he begins then gets up and walks out.

I stare after him. "To protect you," Finnick says quietly, making me jump. "You're all he's worried about. Are you denying you have the same troubles? That you know you can't win so you want to save him instead?"

I look into my hands. That's exactly what I thought. But I didn't think I could do anything about it. "Don't get me wrong. He wants to win too. But he wants to win more. I've never seen him so determined before," his eyes cloud over.

"I'll do the same. Protect him I mean," I say, mainly for my benefit.

"Won't work. Like I said, he's determined. He made me promise to stop you from doing that. He knows how things will be for you afterwards, even knows about how it will be for him."

"Did you promise?" I ask.

The look that Finnick gives me now almost breaks my heart. It says '_I had to. I owed him that much. He introduced me to you, what more could I want. This isn't his game, it's yours'_.

"So in all honesty you owe him an apology and your thanks. He just made your life a whole lot easier," Finnick says in the end, this time out loud.

I nod, but it feels like life has lost it's meaning. Its strange, I know. To have someone fighting for my life in every way possible, someone willing to sacrifice himself for me and yet still I feel depressed about it. I stand and leave the way Chris left. Next door to my room there's a room almost identical, if you ignore the mirror image feel it has. Rather than being on the left of the room, the bathroom is on the right, with the bed on the left, the opposite of mine. Chris lies on the bed, fiddling with something. A box lies open beside him, with photos and shells, small jars of sand, other objects that remind me of home. I stand awkwardly in the doorway. "I'm sorry," I mutter, feeling like I'm invading his thoughts.

"What for?" he asks quietly.

I sigh and make my way to the bed, perching next to him. "For being unfair. Un-thoughtful. Ungrateful," I say gently.

"Then you shouldn't be sorry. You're only being you," he snaps. I nod, looking away. He's right. Everyone that knows me, the teachers at school, the village people or even the other village people say I'm a sweet girl, thankful for everything, fair and thoughtful, but those who know me better know I'm the opposite. "Then again, your also caring, generous and brave. How can anyone be both?" he sighs as if he's sick of it.

I feel the sides of my mouth twitch. "You mentioned my Grandfather in training today. What was all that about?" I ask.

"Don't call him Grandfather," he says.

"Why not?" I frown, after all, that's exactly what he is.

"Call him Paps. That's what you used to call him."

I frown. "I did? Huh, I don't remember."

"Do you remember why he died?" he asks.

I gulp and nod my head. "In a boat accident like my father." He turns back to his hands, as if he disapproves my answer. "Why?" I ask.

"It was the year of Finnicks games. He was seventeen, you were twelve. You're first ever reaping. Your Paps held your hand through the whole thing. Boy, were you shaking like a leaf. Then, the girls names were called. It was you."

I gasp. "Me?" How do I not remember this?

"You began to walk up to stage, but your Paps wouldn't let go of your hand. Said the Capital had already taken both his daughter and that they couldn't have you. He gave you a hug, whispered in your ear to run away. As he suspected he was beaten up on live T.V. You ran, just in time too. He was shot," he says gravely.

I inhale suddenly, the memories coming back so painful. My Paps died for me.

"Once they were done they turned to get you, but you had run, so instead of wasting time they reaped someone else. Your Grandmother was forced to go to the Capital even though she was greeving and you were missing. We found you one week later. Starving, dehydrated, almost dead. You'd banged your head. No-one made a big deal of your return. Otherwise you'd be shot. Thing was, the bang to your head had erased many memories, almost all of your Paps, and every one of your parents. You didn't even remember the reaping. So they kept quiet.

"The two of you used to go fishing together you know. He taught you how to swim and how to spear. He also trained you. He trained your mother and then he trained you too, just to be on the safe side. He was the best fisherman you'd ever meet," Chris finishes.

I feel the tears roll down my cheeks, showing no sight of stopping. They are all flooding back, every memory I'd lost, just by being told the story. If they had told me sooner would it have helped me greave him, or would it have got me killed. I guess I'll never know.

"You weren't reaped again. Not until this year. What are the odds of being reaped twice huh?" he asks.

"Few," I squeak.

"Rigged, that's what I think. You survived your own mini hunger games while you were missing, but they're still not satisfied. Well we'll show them."

I want to cry, scream, choke until I die, for my Paps and for Chris. I stayed safe while some other girl took my place and died and even now, five years later I'm going in for real this time. What a waste of that girls life. I make a promise to myself that if I do win, I'll watch Finnicks games, to find out about him, about me and about Paps. One things for sure and that's that the 65th Hunger Games are suddenly of more interest to me.

"Hay, what have you got there?" I ask, sniffing.

"A shell you can hear the sea with. It was my moms," he says. Once again I feel a tightening in my chest. Chris's mom is dead.

I pick up the box and flick through the photos. Ones of Dekklan when he was a baby, ones of Mr Rif with Chris, a few of me and Finnick, but most of his mother. "What is all this?" I ask, pulling out a jar.

"A jar of sand from my first trip to the beach. My mom started this collection, one for each of us, and when she died I carried it on. Dekklan bought it for me on reaping day. Thought it would be comforting," he says softly.

"And is it?" I ask.

"No," he sighs. "But yes too. I'm just very confused that's all."

A buzzer goes for dinner. "We'd better go eat," I say, standing up.

"I'm not hungry," he says sullenly.

"Well I am and you're coming too," I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door. At the table he's back to smiles and laughs. Putting on a brave face. All of a sudden I admire him much more than I did before. So I copy, even though I'm scared inside, and missing my Paps to hell and back. I copy, even though I miss Finnick and how we used to be. I copy, even though I'm missing my parents. I will have a brave face too, for Chris.


	5. Chapter 5

**I know, its short right. I'm sorry, but I fluffed it up a big as some of you wanted. I thought that since it was short the next one will be longer, plus, there is a bomb just waiting to explode in the next chapter. Like I said, I love getting reviews and hearing all of your thoughts, so please let me know what you think. :)**

**Chapter Five**

Second day of training goes well. We visit the survival stools, learning how to tie simple knots and to know which plants are edible and which aren't. Then Chris had an idea. "I'll visit those three over there and you go to those three over here, then at the apartment we'll brief each other later. That way we'll get round more. What do you think?"

"Deal," I smile and shake his hand on it. I head to the station that has edible-insects and eventually to the fire station. I start a fire easily and smile in triumph, pleased with my effort. A sound of sizzling next to me grabs my attention. Marla sits in front of the biggest fire, smiling smugly at me, then looking at my fire, which seems measly compared to hers. I add some more sticks, trying to make it grow but all I manage is to put it out, smoke rising dangerously. She laughs and walks away, leaving the instructor the job of extinguishing her fire. I sigh in disappointment. She's won already.

A few stools later and my head is buzzing with new information so much so that I can't think straight. I decide that's enough and practice a little with the archery. I've improved a little since the first time I held a bow, but I still can't shoot the dummy first time. I don't mind too much since my weapon choice is defiantly going to be spears, however it can't hurt to give other weapons a go. "If only I could do my swimming," I sigh.

"You'd get a 20 in that," Chris says as he walks past, laughing at my expression. He's referring to the scores. At the end of the training each tribute has fifthteen minutes to show the gamesmakers their stuff and get scored out of twenty. The training is done in secret but the other tributes join up with those who are scored high. I have no hope of scoring high with my skills but I'll try my best anyway.

I continue to shoot until I get it almost get it every time. "No bad, for a girl that isn't actually a career."

I spin round to find myself face to face with Vine. She looks impressed, not intimidating. I look at her warily. "You can talk to me. I'm on your team."

"Careers can't trust one another," I point out.

"You're not a Career though, are you," she counters.

"That's what I thought too but it seems I was wrong. I was trained by my Paps when I was younger but an accident wiped out all my memories of it. I didn't forget what he taught me though. Maybe I'm more of a threat than you thought I was," I say, shooting another dummy for good measure.

"Wow. So you are the dark horse. What about Chris?"

"I wouldn't call him a Career. Careers have no hearts. He defiantly has a heart." I'm not even bothering to look at her now. I know that if I do I'll waver and won't seem as tough.

"Well, I have my eye on you. I like you. I think we should have a proper alliance. I'm not a Career. I pretend to be, but to be honest I'm just a girl with talent. Maybe we could help each other out…"

"We'll see. For now focus on getting Marla and Tiger to like you. They'll be harder to crack that Chris and I."

"I've got that sorted. Butch is kind of like me. That means that there are only three real Careers. That's you, Marla and Tiger, but I guess us other three slot nicely in there somewhere. Tiger is my District partner and Marla is simpler that you think. I'll be fine, and if you pair up with me, you'll be too," she says but I ignore her and continue shooting.

"Like I said, we'll think about it."

Finally training is over so we go back to our floor. We grab some food before telling Finnick we'll be on the roof. I'm aching all over and am so tired, but Chris and I had a promise, so we have work to do. On the roof we order sticks, leaves, flint and steel. Then I show Chris how to build a fire. I make a nice steady fire but his is better so I begin to go through a book of edible insects with him. He's soon deep in concentration to I turn back to the fire. After three attempts I still can't build a fire bigger that before. I sigh and throw the flint down. "You're not going it right. Try this," a voice behind me says and two muscly arms come around me and take the flint, striking it and getting a big flame immediately. He places a kiss on my cheek and comes to sit by me. I look about for any camera's or recorders but I see none. Finnick wraps his arm around me and smiles. "We're safe here."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"Inside information," he smiles mysteriously. In other words it's one of the secrets the women of the capital have given him in exchange for a night with him.

"When I'm here I relax a little and smile. Mags and I come here every year," Finnick begins. "It's one of the few places I feel safe. Even at home I don't feel safe somehow. Here I can finally be myself."

I smile. Chris laughs. "So this is what the two of you are like at home. Honestly, I've never seen you as a couple before despite the fact that you've been together for over three years now. To be honest it's a little strange."

I look at the floor. He's right. We all hang around together, but when people ask who the other is we say "A friend of Chris," so that we don't raise suspicions. Although Chris knows our relationship is serious he doesn't see us together like this often. At home he often said that "your cheeks glow and your eyes sparkle when he's there. I love our weekends just you and me, but when he's there it's like you're complete. You laugh and smile more too." I wonder what it's like for him, to know his two best friends are together. Strange probably, but I don't think he minds.

"You're doing it now," Chris says as if he's read my mind.

"I'm with two of the most important people in the world to me. Why wouldn't I glow," I say gently.

Finnicks fingers intertwine with mine. "I'm really going to miss you," I whisper.

"Me too. The day I met you I found a reason to smile. It didn't matter what I went through, all bad experiences didn't matter anymore, because I had you. Now President Snow has taken even that away. I'm rich, I'm popular, but none of that makes me happy like you do," he says sincerely.

I want to fling my arms around him and tell him its okay. But I can't. So I just rest my head on his shoulder.

"We should get some sleep," Chris eventually says, though I think the night stars and our relaxing surroundings had captured his heart as much as mine.

I nod and untwine my fingers from Finnicks. "See you later," I say and he nods.

In my room later I hear the door creak and I know Finnick has arrived. I roll over. "What took you so long?" I ask.

"I had an errand that President Snow wanted me to see too. Sorry. I've been thinking though, about strategy," he says and he climbs in beside me, wrapping his arms around me.

"And?" I ask.

"Not tonight. Tomorrow maybe. Just get some sleep," he says and I settle down and fall into a deep sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here you go, it's the bomb you've all been waiting for. Yes, this chapter was emotional, but I hope you like it. Let me know what you think and remember, if you feel like there's something you want to happen, just let me know in a review and I'll see what I can do. :) xx**

**Chapter Six**

The next morning I wake early to find that Finnick has snuck out already. I pull on a pretty green top that matches my eyes and black pants before heading out to breakfast. In the living room I spot a figure sitting curled up in a ball on the window ledge. I walk over and realise to my surprise it's not Finnick but Chris, watching the sun rise. I sit down opposite.

There are no bird singing like at home. Just the sound of buzzing streets, despite the early hour. Without even turning his head he says, "Strange isn't it. Not to hear the birds and the other wildlife that comes with it. Not to smell the salty sea air or the stench of fish on every item of clothing you have. I miss that," he sighs.

"Well I can't say the quiet allows me to sleep in more, but I guess after living my whole life there I've become accustomed to it, and sleeping without it has become impossible, even when there's no chance of sleep with it either," I smile.

"Can't sleep?" he asks.

"No. Doubt we're not the only ones. They all have homes too," I say guiltily. They all have homes that they want to return to. And I want to win. In order for me to do so they have to die. Even the twelve-year-old who, up until now, I haven't allowed myself to think about. She didn't have a Grandfather who died for her, who basically throw himself in front of the bullet for her. Not a sister who could volunteer. I even have the advantage of my mentors being families and my District mate being my best friend. It may not seem like luck but it is. Because they'll all be doing their best to save me because they love me. And I can hold on to that. She can't.

"It's true, but theirs aren't half so relaxed," he sighs.

"Relaxed?" I laugh. Relaxed is not a word I'd use to describe my district. Beautiful yes, relatively closely knitted yes, but relaxed no. If you think District 4 is relaxed then your clearly forgetting the all the peacekeepers, and the hunger and the pain theses past uprisings have bought.

"Yes. Annie you may not believe it but we have one of the most relaxed Districts of all. Okay so we have to fish, to earn a living and keep them alive, but they give us weekends where we can sail to our hearts content. Trust me, life in four is a million times easier."

"How would you know?"

"Because I've talked to them," he says, looking at me for the first time. "I know I shouldn't have. Tributes should leave other tributes alone, unless they're going to team up with the Careers, but I couldn't help it. Curiosity got the better of me. Do you know how hard they have it? Honestly the stories I've heard. Whippings in eleven, shooting in three, accidents mineing in twelve. It's awful. They starve, they die, they fall ill, they're punished. They turn to crime to survive. And their children rarely return. That's if they're not career districts like 1, 2 and 4. Seriously Annie, if you weren't my district partner I might actually consider protecting one of them instead, just because I feel sorry for them."

"Why did you find out?" I ask, stunned by his speech.

"Because I wanted to know the world I was going to be leaving. More than just the sunny skies of home but the truth and reality of life for others. Promise me that when you win you'll feel empathy towards them."

"Don't give up on yourself. You may think that I'm going to win, but if I die I want you to win. For Dekklan, for your dad, for Finnick, and for me. You have to win. Promise me that," I say huffily. He shouldn't be excepting defeat already.

"I promise to do what I know you would have though right. Got it?"

I roll my eyes but I'm satisfied. Then I grab some snacks from the table and begin munching. "Beginning your morning binge already are you?" Chris smirks.

"Shut up. You're not being particularly careful either you know," I say.

"No but I don't end up throwing it all back up again do I? So there," he grins. I take one of the crunchy things I'm eating - I have no idea what they are but they're delicious - and throw it at him. This kind of backfires when he catches it in his mouth, grinning even wider than before, but I'm satisfied that he got my point.

We don't talk again until Stan spears from his chambers, mainly because I am mulling over the idea of whippings and Chris because he is remembering his family back home. I wonder what he said to them the last time he saw them. Had he already made up his mind there and then to protect me or was this all an afterthought? My pondering is interrupted when Stan steps between us. "It's going to be a very productive day today. Training with the games makers. Don't let me down boys and girls," he says so chirpily its sickly.

"No pressure," grunts Chris quietly. I am suddenly left wondering if his confident, happy-go-luck attitude is just an act, that deep down he's scared, unhappy, and maybe even full of hatred. I go and fill two plates but movement catches my eye to I change it to three. Then I walk back to the window sill and hand the plates to Finnick and Chris. "Who's the super full one for?" Finnick asked innocently. I see Chris raise an eyebrow and grin smugly.

"For you," I say quickly, handing Finnick the plate.

"Well I can't eat this much so maybe you could take some off my plate maybe?" he says cheekily.

"I'll do my best," I nod as sincerely as possible. Chris snorts. I give him an innocent look. "What's that Chris?"

He's laughing so hard now that he's gasping for breath. The sight of him is making Finnick laugh, and I have to bite my tongue to restrain myself. "If you'd like some too you can have some. I wouldn't want to seem greasy," I say, which makes him laugh so hard his food tips up into his lap. Finally I give in and laugh too. Finnick clutches his stomach and Chris is actually crying.

It's not so much what was said as oppose to what Chris did that Finnick and I are laughing at but Grandma seems to find the whole thing entertaining. She brings a napkin over for Chris, her plate in hand. Stan walks past and exclaims in horror. "Dogs. You all eat like dogs."

Finnick scoops up the sloppiest and messiest substance on his plate with his hands, shovelling it in and then smiling at Stan, pushing the food through his teeth. Chris immediately stands laughing again, Grandma chuckles and I have to laugh to, in admiration for Finnick and just at Chris in general. Stan pulls a face and leaves the room, muttering something about dogs under his breath.

Once I've begun eating my perky mood dissolves. I eat it all again, having not learned from before, and am soon excusing myself to throw up again in my chambers. No-one follows this time. They know what's coming and they know I'll be okay, so why stop eating their food or risk giving the capital suspicion.

I re-join them later after ringing my mouth out about seventy times. "Feeling better now?" Grandma asks gently. I'm not. Finnick holds out a plate with a simple crab cake on it, just like the ones we have at home. "I gave the chef the recipe and they made it. Not rich, not delicious, just the usual stuff you're used to," she says gently, sitting me at the table. I dig in and realise for the first time how much I miss District 4 food. It's less salty and not as good as the food from home but I like it all same. I order another. "Are you sure about this?" Grandma asks.

I nod. "Last one."

After breakfast I get dressed into the same clothes as before, the ones every tribute wears to the training. I take deep breaths. Out in the main living room I wait and not long after Chris arrives, closely followed by Finnick and Grandma. "Annie, use a bow, use a spear, start a fire, whatever you feel like. Chris, play around with a sword but show you can do other things too. Most of all, both of you stay calm," Finnick says in such a business like way that I can hardly contain my laughter. "This is serious Annie," he snaps and I realise now that maybe as mentor he's trying harder to keep me alive than any other tribute before, before we've even entered the games. "Oh no, Annie, they've already began," his eyes seem to tell me, and I guess they have. After all, I wouldn't put it past the Capital to rig the games because of what they've seen in the training.

"We'll try our best solider," Chris says, saluting Finnick, who scowls. Trust Chris to take the blame for me, or to distract Finnick from a lecture. I straighten my back, hold my head high and become as serious as possible. "Better," Finnick says, seeming to relax a little. "As for you, I'm trusting you to keep her under control," he says poignantly to Chris.

Then we leave and make our way down to the training centre. All the tributes are lined up, with the boy from 1 first and the girl from 12 last. Being the girl from District 4 I'll be going eighth. Chris is before me. When his name is called he gives me a hug before entering. "Good luck," I call after him. I sit waiting for about fifteen minutes, and then my name is called over the flat-toned speaker and I'm in. "Annie - Crest-a".

I am pushed by two peacekeepers through the doors. Inside everything is set out as usual, only this time the room is empty of tributes. I am almost shocked at how different it feels, more eerie than before. Then I remind myself I have fifteen minutes to prove to them I'm worth it. "Annie Cresta, District 4," I announce. A man with a strange beard nods, so I head over to the weaponry station. I select the lightest looking spear I can and raise it. I shoot at the dummy and hit it right in the chest. I see one or two game makers nodding in approval, but others aren't so easily impressed. No doubt they've seen it all before. So pushing the lever I make the dummies move. Picking up the bow and arrow I shoot three down and then spear them until their light goes out to indicate they're dead.

I glance up at the balcony. They're smiling now, some even jotting down notes. That's got to be a good sign right? I decide against lighting a fire, as Marla may have already made one and mine would look weak, so I decide instead to set a snare. It's quite impressive if I do say so myself. Then the gong sounds.

I leave and am greeted by Chris. As we make our way to the elevator he asks, "How'd it go?"

"Fine, nothing to rave about. I'll get a five or something. You?" I ask, pressing the button for the elevator to take us to our floor.

"You know. Used the sword, demonstrated edible insects, that kind of thing," he says vaguely. Either it went really well and he doesn't want to make me feel bad, or it went really badly and he doesn't want me to worry.

On our floor we sit and wait. There's not much else to do. In the end we watch back to reaping to pass the time and to evaluate our opposition. Overall I get the impression that District 1 and 2 are very eager to kill. District 3 just get up as if nothing's happened, not happy, not sad, just neutral. I work out for the first time they must be brother and sister, and I realise that this experience isn't just hard for me. I know how they feel, and if anything I'd like to be allies with them, because they know how it feel, but Finnick says only ally with people you don't like otherwise it hurts too much to let you win. That's how his last lot of tributes died.

When it gets to us, I want to fast forward. I might cry otherwise. But I guess Chris wants to see his brother and fathers faces again. So I let him. My name is called and I walk up to stage. I don't look happy but I don't look like I'm about to cry so that's got to be good. I catch a glimpse of myself glancing over at Finnick where he stands at the corner of the stage, but clearly the audience thinks I'm looking at my Grandma, as the camera's zoom in on her face. Distraught, that's how she looks. Like she could break down at any moment. I look into my lap. This is what I've done by being picked. I look over to where Grandma sits. She smiles sadly at me. Then I look back. Dekklan's name is called. As he makes his way to stage, I make out a gulp. Then Chris volunteers and Stan's face lights up. They show my reaction. Horror, pain, welling up. It doesn't look like I'm scared of him. More that I'm terrified of entering the games. You don't have to be a genius to guess that we know each other. We shake hands and Chris even kisses my cheek. I smile sadly at him and the commentator says "If I didn't know better you'd think there's chemistry there." Then it shows District 5 and Chris leaves the room in silence. I wipe a tear away. At the end I turn over to the recap of the Tribute Parade. The commentators have a lot to say about Chris and I.

"Ah, District 4. Our Victors Granddaughter and our volunteer. What are these two because they're not related are they Claudius?" the voice of Caesar Flickerman says over the top.

"I don't know because let's face it, the reaping was very emotional for them both. And when you see them here, look, they're holding hands. Do you think..?"

"I do. I defiantly think there's something going on here. Love, friendship, whatever it is they're sure to tell us soon. I can't wait until the interviews when we finally get a chance to find out about them."

I frown. They all seem so sure that we're together. Chemistry, love... we're just friends right? Well at least no-one seems to have guessed about Finnick and me yet.

Finally the scores come up. Chris re-joins us, with Finnick sneaking in quietly. On an 'errand' again I expect.

District 1 and 2 get tens and nines as expected. Both of 3 get sixes, which surprises me a little, but I am not worried yet. Then Chris's name comes up, along with a photo of him. I glance at him. He look a little nervous. "And now Christiaan Rif from District 4. He scored..." Caesar says, pausing for a moment. "A nine."

Stan claps happily, and I try to smile at Chris but he avoids my eye. Finnick pats him on the back and Grandma give him a thumbs up, but overall no-one wants to celebrate yet.

"Next is Annie Cresta, District 4, with a score of..." The silence is the longest I've ever heard. Almost. The reaping was a million times worst, but this is still bad. Four, I'll get a four... "Eight. Good high scores there for District 4."

I look up, startled. Eight? How did I get an eight? Chris smiles triumphantly, while Finnick stares stunned. "What did you do?"

"Who cares what she did, they both have excellent scores that will go down brilliantly with the Careers. We must celebrate," Stan says, clapping his hands so that the Avoxes bring over some Champaign. They toast and I take a glass too. After all, this isn't just any old day, we are celebrating. Finnick frowns at me, but when Chris whispers "lighten up," Finnick pulls him roughly aside and hisses something so shocking that it makes Chris choke on his drink. I ignore it, since whatever they said is obviously about me. But something stops me from drinking the Champaign. Instead I go and sit at the table with everyone else, Chris and Finnick joining us very soon afterwards. Stan takes head of the table, with Chris next to me, Finnick opposite and Grandma on the other side. We're all in a jolly mood, but somehow Chris seems false and Finnick is always watching me closely. We eat out meal, me being very careful of my choices and size, which seems to please Finnick a little, but not much. Chris drinks his Champaign and then asks Finnick something. Finnick begins to tell everyone, which has all of our attention. Then I hear a glass smash and glancing around I see that Chris has knocked my Champaign over. I stand up quickly, trying to stop the liquid to spill over me. Chris begins mopping up, with Stan rushing to find an Avox. Out of the corner of my eye I see Finnick whisper something in Grandma's ear. Whatever it is, it's defiantly about me again, because she glances from me to the Champaign to me again, and then nods.

The Avoxes quickly tidy up, sitting me down with a new glass of Champaign. I don't drink any yet. The conversation begins again and i soon forget about the whole incident. They're about to bring out dessert when I see that my glass is once again empty. Chris must have drunk mine too.

After dinner I head to my room, claiming I have a headache, but not before I've taken another Champaign. Something about how everyone is acting has made me determined to drink it. As I suspected about ten minutes after Finnick sneaks in. "What the hell?"

I stand up. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Since when were you a drinker?"

"Since today. Since when were you in charge of me?" I ask.

"Since today so it seems. Anything you'd like to tell me?"

I shake my head and pick up the Champaign.

"Are you sure about that?" he asks, turning me to face him and staring into my eyes, his face so solemn I want to laugh.

"Yes," I say, taking a sip. He frowns and takes the Champaign away from me.

"You think I don't know?" he asks. "You think I haven't noticed? I know everything about you, Annie, so why don't you just tell me already?" he asks.

"Tell you what?" I ask, my smile fading as I take back my wine and raise it to drink from it.

"Don't play dumb with me," he scowls as he snatches away the wine again. "Don't you know anything? You're not supposed to drink when you're pregnant."

The mouthful of wine comes spraying out all over his shirt. I stand there, mouth gaping. "What!?"

"It's not safe to drink while you're pregnant. Surely you know that Annie?"

"I'm not pregnant," I stutter.

"Don't lie to me. I've noticed. I'm not dumb. All the throwing up, the mood swings, not to mention the bump that's beginning to appear. I cradle you every night, I've felt it," he says loudly.

I sit down on the bed, in a daze. I'm not pregnant. I'm not. But he is right; I have been doing a lot of throwing up. And I do change moods very easily. I place my hand gently on my stomach, just below the hips and sure enough a small bump is forming. I let out a sob.

Finnick kneels down in front of me. "Come on Annie. When where you going to tell me?" he asks more softly now.

"When I found out," I sob.

"Wait... so you mean you really didn't know?" he asks.

I shake my head and the tears flow like a waterfall. "Oh Annie," he whispers, pulling me in for a hug. "I'm sorry. I really thought you knew..." he begins, but his voice dies out and I'm left sobbing into his shoulder.

"What. Are. We. Going. To. Do?" I ask between sobs.

"We're going to make you win. You'll both be coming home to me," he says determinedly.

I'm about to protest, about to remind him that his best friend is my fellow tribute, that he can't save us both when I realize that he means the baby. Me and the baby. I feel like I'm drowning in guilt that he's given up on Chris but then he pulls me in for a long loving kiss that stops me short, that makes me feel like he truly loves me with all his heart. Then we lie down together in silence, both our hands on my stomach and both our hearts breaking.


	7. Chapter 7

**Another chapter. I know, I know, four in one day but I just got so engrossed in it that I couldn't stop. Oh well, I hope you enjoy and please, please, if you read it, please review. :)**

**Chapter Seven**

I wake up and sprint to the bathroom. Throwing up once again. But just as I finally stop, I remember why I'm throwing up and it begins all over again. This isn't any old sickness, this is morning sickness. I am pregnant. I'm going into the games. We both are.

Finnick comes over to sit by me. I've collapsed to the floor, the tears flowing for the hundredth time. He sits down beside me, wiping away the tears. "It's okay, it's okay. You're okay," he says, pulling me in and rocking me back and forth. He rocks me until I stop. But I can't and every time I compose myself I burst into tears all over again. "I have to go and get dressed. I'll send Mags to see you. Hopefully she can do a better job than me," he says. I know he hates leaving me like this, but there isn't much else he can do and I know he's scared for my safety. All three of us, our little family.

I've stopped crying when Grandma joins me. I just sit on the bathroom floor, staring into space, hoping that the Capital will see justice and spare me and my child one last time. But I know that will never happen. This is a war I have to fight.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, sinking to the floor and putting her arms around me.

"Petrified," I say, still staring into space.

"It'll be okay. No granddaughter of mine gets pregnant and I not get to meet my great grandchild."

I begin sobbing again. "It's okay. Do you know something my dear? You don't know how lucky you are. You have a grandmother who is doing everything she can to keep you alive, a boyfriend who is sucking up to all the rich people of the Capital and even a best friend who's first though was, 'How can I find enough food to feed them both?' Your entire family is fighting for you. We'll bring you home, I promise," she says. "But for us to do so you have to co-operate and that means stopping the tears to focus on your interview tonight."

I nod and stand up. I splash my face, rinse my mouth out and dress. My grandma has left the room when I come out of the bathroom. I find some comfy looking clothes waiting. I put them on, tucking my necklace under my shirt. I walk out to the living room, slightly subdued, considering the way I acted last night. Chris alone is waiting. He immediately embraces me, and I feel myself welling up, but I refuse to cry. If I do I won't stop. "Say nothing until we get to the roof," he whispers and I nod.

After making our way to the roof, I immediately burst into tears and rush into Finnick's arms. He sits down, leaning against the wall. Grandma is there too, of course, and I notice only too late that Stan is there also. I break away from Finnick, sniffing back tears. "It's okay. I know everything. Finnick's explained how he will punish me personally if I rat. The truth is, though I know how you tributes hate to believe it, that you need be to pull this off."

I glance at Finnick but as he kisses my forehead I know he's telling the truth. He sits down next to Chris and I curl up beside him.

"As head mentor I've called together a meeting to discuss are current problem. You all know about Annie and I, and you defiantly know of the baby. But none of that's the problem. It's more the fact that she's entering the bloody hunger games that I'm worried about. So we need strategies, names, plans, alliances, anything that can help keep the three of them alive as long as possible. Any ideas?" he asks.

There's silence. "Tell her your idea, Finnick. It's the best we can do," Chris says quietly.

"We were thinking, as the rest of Panem already thinks that there's something going on with the two of you that maybe you though that pretending to be... in love... for your interview would be the best option. After all, they will find out about the baby and then how will you explain it?"

I look at Chris. "You would do that?" He nods. "Well, I won't let you."

"You have no choice. And besides, look at it this way. If I die, no-one will question you. They won't ask who the father is, or why you and Finnick are so close. They may even leave you alone. And if you die, hopefully the Capital won't subject me to the same fate as Finnick, because I'll be the heartbroken boy from District 4 that not only lost a girlfriend but a child as well. In that way its win win."

"But for that to happen one of us has to die," I snap.

"Well, whether one of you wins or neither of you wins at least you will have tried. Come on Annie, Finnick knows what he's doing. It will give us something to work with," Grandma says.

"Do you mind?" I ask Finnick.

"Do I have another choice?" he asks sadly.

"Now, your other best move would be to ally up with the Careers. Being one of them might just save your life. They've already requested Chris. If he insists that he must have you with him then I doubt they'll object. And it's not like you scored badly," Stan says, the first useful thing I've ever heard him say.

I look at Chris, who raises an eyebrow. I nod. To save my child I'll do it.

"Okay. Lastly I think we'll have you talk of your love somehow on stage. I'll leave that up to you. I've already requested that your dress is tight enough to be able to see your bump. Don't mention it, but don't be afraid of hinting." I nod at Finnick. "In the Games you can talk about it all you want, but keep the capitals excitement focused on your secret romance for the moment, then when it begins to die down you can begin to mention it and then the gift will come streaming in. Now, go and get ready. I have planning and I don't think any of us are on top form for training."

As Finnick begins to leave I catch his arm and pull him to the side. "Do you mind that I'll have to act all lovey dovey with Chris around you?"

"Yes, I mind beyond imagination, but its for the best and I was even thinking of beginning rumours myself. Get things moving," he says, cupping my face in his hands. "I love you."

Then he's gone. I don't see him for the rest of the day. I am sent to Kyliea quite early on. I've eaten nothing despite Grandma's pestering. Not that Kyliea seems to mind. "I've altered your dress a little, but you will look amazing. I might even go as far as radiant," she smiles.

"You haven't got much to work with," I say quietly.

"Don't underestimate the power of a pregnant woman my dear. Never," she says and gets to work.

My prep team begins on my make-up and begins their normal jibber jabber about nothing in particular. "Can you believe it? There are rumors that two tributes are together. Some say they're even secretly engaged. Can you believe it? I just wish i knew which ones so that i could send them a parashoot," One babbles.

I raise my eyebrows. Finnick works quickly when he sets his mind to it.

"Do you know who it is Annie?" one asks me. Before i can open my mouth to answer she's already talking again. "I bet its District Six. Or maybe three? No, too dull. They wouldn't even look at each other. Maybe..."

I zone out for the rest of it. Soon my hair and make-up is done and they are rounded up and out the room by Kyliea. She instructs me to close my eyes and then she dresses me.

My hair falls in a wavy style around my shoulders, my face glittered. My dress in pale blue, the same blue as Kylieas hair. It has no straps, tight at the top to extenuate my figure, then flowing from just under my hips down to my ankles. Under the top layout of the skirt is netting, layers and layers of it. I'm wearing slightly high heels and have a starfish attached near the hips. I look stunning. Turning to my side I can see properly for the first time my bump.

"I feel like a princess," I breath.

"Well, when Chris mentions you he won't find it hard to say how beautiful you look. In all fairness I am a genius," she smiles.

"What's he wearing?" I ask.

"A suit that has similar colours to yours. You'll make a stunning pair," she smiles.

I go back to the living room wear Grandma and Kyliea decide to train me on how to sit correctly. They question me on boys, Chris, trying to watch my reaction, even mention Finnick in hopes that I might blush, but somehow I don't. Whatever happened they seem satisfied. Unlike other districts they've planned to keep us apart, in hopes that the reactions to how each other looks may be fresher, more real. Its when we go to the interview stadium and are sent to waiting rooms that i begin to get nervous. If this goes wrong then I could mess all of our lives up. So much is at stake.

I ignore the interviews on the small t.v's knowing I'll freak myself out more than I need too. It's not long before my name is called.

I've seen Caeser Flickerman lots on t.v before but I never imagined him to be so... nice in real life. He want to help you, wants to make you do well. He's on your side entirely. This year he's gone pink. Pink hair, pink skin, pink suit, everything pink. He does that, honor each hunger games with a different colour, some I never even knew existed.

I walk onto the stage and the crowd goes crazy. Its unbelievable. I sit down as Grandma showed me - straight back, head high, partly facing Caeser, partly the audience - and smile. I spot Grandma, Stan and Finnick standing in the curtain area behind Caeser.

"So Annie. An eight in training. Are you pleased?" Caeser asks.

"Yes. I'm very pleased," I say.

"Can you tell us what you did?"

"I did what all Careers do... I showed them I could fight," I say, as confidently as I can.

"Ah, a Career, are you? So what does your family think of that?" Caeser asks.

My smile fades and I look down into my lap. "I only have my Grandma now."

"I'm sorry," Caeser begins, patting my hand. "What about a boy? We all know from previous games that District Four has some good looking boys. We're all thinking Finnick Odair, aren't we?" he asks the audience and laughs as they roar. "What's he like?"

Deep breath. "As arrogant and self centred as you think," I say and catch him laugh.

"Not Finnick then. What about another boy?" He asks. "Someone special at home?"

I think of Finnick. For the first time ever he told me he loved me yesterday. I blush at the memory. "Not at home," I say shyly.

"Ladies and Gentleman she's blushing. There is a boy. So he's not at home. Does that mean? We've all had our suspicions I think, but would you be suggesting Christiaan Rif?" The crowd roars, people jumping up and down, cheering and whistling. I peek at the audience, smile, blush again and then laugh. Caeser can no longer control them.

The buzzer goes and I leave the stage. I look at the ground as I walk, and don't realise until its too late that I've walked straight into Chris. "Sorry," I gush and then catch my breath. He looks so smart, even handsome. He looks me up and down and smiles. I blush and look away. The crowd goes even more crazy. I walk off the stage and sigh with relief. Grandma hugs me. "Brilliant. I almost bought it myself," Finnick smiles but I notices he's very quiet.

The sound of Caesers voice breaks into my thoughts and I turn back to the stage. I know he can see me. So I do my best to smile with encouragement. "So Christian," Caeser begins.

"Chris," Chris corrects.

"Chris. You must have watched Annie's interview. Is the feeling mutual?" Caeser asks.

Chris smiles mischievously. "Yes. How couldn't you love her? She's stunning. The way her green eyes sparkle, like the ocean on a winters morning, deep green with hints of blue and white. And her smile just captivates me. She looks beautiful, radiant even."

"Has the attraction always been there?" Caeser said. "Ever since the reaping?"

"Way before that Caecer. I've known her since she was a baby and loved her since the first time she opened those eyes to look at me."

"So why volunteer? Where's your hope of a happy ever after?" Caeser asks.

"I guess... I couldn't watch her fight my brother and my brother fight her. It would have been torture. So I guess maybe volunteering made it easier. That way I could protect them both. Dekklan would be safe at home and I could try and keep Annie alive from within the games. Of course if she gets killed then I'll try to win for her, after all, I am still a Career, but volunteering seemed the best option. And now I'm so glad I did. I have other reasons to keep her alive now," Chris says.

"What did you say to her, at the reaping?" Caeser asks.

"I told her that I loved her no matter what," Chris says, his eyes mist over, as he stares down at the floor.

"I'm sure you do. How will you play the games?" Caeser asks quickly.

"Like every moment is my last. I'll love her more than ever before," Chris says.

"So what do you want for her if she wins?" Caeser asks gently.

"I can't say I want her to find someone else who makes her happy, but I do want her to be happy, so maybe if that's what she wants..." He says.

"One more question. What did you say to your brother after the reaping?" I hold my breath. Stay calm, hold it together. Career had stepped wrong with that one. But to my surprise he stays very calm.

"I told him that I loved him, that he was to be happy and safe and that I was sorry. That I was going to die for Annie. I asked if he'd forgive me," he says.

"And?"

"And he said he'd forgive me anything," Chris says, and then the buzzer goes an Chris exits the stage.

We are all silent. He did a great job, but the last two questions must have got to him. I link my arm through his, kiss his cheek and head to our floor. He goes straight to his room. I want to follow but Finnick stops me. "Let him go," he says quietly. So I do.

I know that half of what I said was a lie. My opinions of Finnick, my Career like personality, my feelings for Chris. But somehow I don't think his was as fake as the others thought it was. How he described my eyes. Its true, and I was quite a distance away, so he defiantly couldn't see. The way he spoke about me. The love and emotion, it was so believable. Then the questions on Dekklan. They were defiantly true. So that's what he said to Chris. That he was going to die for me. No wonder Dekklan broke down when they came to see me. I excuse myself pretty quickly. I don't want to watch the interviews back, don't want to stay and chat. I've lost my appetite again, so instead I go back to my room. I hate taking off my dress but I can't sleep with it on. Finnick comes to join me. He opens his mouth to speak, but I say, "Don't. I don't want to talk tonight."

Instead I curl up in his arms and fall asleep with the safety and warm of Finnick for the very last time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Another short chapter again and I'm sorry but after this they do get longer. You have my word on that :) please please review as I love all your comments and it really doesn't take long. Thank you guys, I'm open to suggestions and enjoy...**

**Chapter Eight**

I wake up the next morning early. But for once I don't throw up. Instead I lie in Finnicks arms, who too is awake.

"It makes me smile to wake up next to you. You've possessed my heart and my soul, so much so that I love you like I never thought possible," Finnick says with such sincerity I want to sing.

"If you really do love me tell it to the world," I say quietly.

He leans in and whispers in my ear "I love you Annie Cresta."

"Why did you whisper it to me?" I ask, disappointed that he didn't shout it from the roof top.

"Because you are my world," he says and my heart melts. I want to sing and dance but end up laughing and then kissing him. He kisses me back with such love I feel like my heart might explode. Tears of happiness and sadness overflow at a pace that doesn't stop.

Finnick kneels down and strokes my belly. Gently he kisses it. "I love you."

The tears get harder. "I love you both," He says, his voice wavering. "Your both coming home to me I promise."

"How can a pregnant woman win against twenty-three other fit tributes, Finn, it won't work," i sob.

He stand up and looks into my eyes. "Because Daddy loves you. When you get scared or begin to lose hope, remember that okay? Promise me you'll remember that," He says sternly, but i can see the desperation in his eyes.

"I promise," I sob.

"Say it now," he demands.

"Daddy loves us. Daddy loves us. Daddy lov..." I say and then break down.

He pulls me in for a tight hug, wrapping him arms around me. "I promise I will do everything in my power to bring you back to me," he says, but his cheeks are wet too. He kisses me tenderly. I eventually stop crying and he helps me dress. He changes back into yesterday's clothes and we head for the living room. He takes my hand and holds it so hard i can barely feel anything. "Look what I found," He says brightly. A little too brightly.

"Come here my dear. I know yesterday was rough on you, but you have to best strong. You won't see Chris until in the games so follow his lead. Apart from that I love you Annie. With all my heart and I'll see you soon," Grandma says pulling me in for a long hug. Kyliea arrives and I thank Stan. Then I give Finnick a hug. "Remember everything I said okay?" he asks and I nod. Then we're gone. I might never see then again. But I said goodbye. That was the least I could do.

I am taken to the roof where a Capital hovercraft awaits. Kyliea assures me towards the ladder to which I am frozen to by an electric current. We are lifted up and am held still while a tracker is inserted.

As we fly I make sure not to look out the window. Morning sickness isn't on the day that the games begin. Soon the temptation is revoked, as the windows black out to prevent a sneak peak of the arena. Wouldn't want any tributes having the advantage now, would they? Not like the age difference makes it unfair or anything.

The hovercraft lands and the two of us are escorted through the underground into the catacombs that lie beneath the arena. "Launch room 4b," a speaker announces almost mechanically. More like stockyard, I think to myself.

I take a shower, and then Kyliea pulls my hair into a single ponytail. Although she has no say in the outfit, she somehow knows vaguely what I'll be wearing. When I ask her how she taps her nose and smiles. This year the outfit isn't that strange. We have a plain t-shirt, a thin blue jacket and stone trousers. That's it. "Now I know that you should only have one district token, but after I saw the lovely starfish I knew you must have both. Here's your necklace and stay still while I attach the starfish into your hair," She says. I fasten the necklace and stand like a statue as she places the starfish to the right hand side of my pony tail. "Food? Water? It could be a while before you get any more."

I feel so sick it's unbelievable, but she has a point so I get her to show me the more plain of the dishes and soon realize just how hungry I am.

Finally its time. "Ten seconds," the speaker says. I look up.

"Good luck. Remember I'll held start rumours, spread the word. I'll do whatever Finnick says in order to bring you home," She says.

She stays strong, but I know she feels like she could cry. Stylist grow attached to their tributes. To me, she's more than a Stylist. She's a friend. And she wants to help me even when I'm in the games. There isn't much else I can ask from her.

"Wait," I say. It's the starfish pin that does it. "Can you see to it that Mr Rif and Dekklan get the truth about all this. They deserve nothing less."

"Of course. I'll tell them personally," she smiles. I give her a hug of thanks before I walk over to the metal plate. As it begins to rise I take deep breaths. In out, in out. But that smell. I recognise it. Salty, like the sea air on a fresh and bright morning. There's grass too, with flowers and trees and wildlife. The two don't usually mix under normal circumstances, but then these aren't normal circumstances, there the Hunger Games, and this is the arena where anything is possible.

The plate comes to a stop, and for the first time I dare to open my eyes. The arena is the most beautiful I've ever seen. Way more spectacular than ever before. This time the Game makers have outdone themselves. I'm surrounded by the tallest, towering walls I've ever seen, made of dust, dirt and chalk. There's a forest just behind me, leading round to both sides and stops by the lake quick is in front, behind the Cornucopia. Lastly there's flowers and wildlife, and there's even warmth, though I'm not sure how long that will last. Could be changed at any point.

I look to my left and see the boy from three eyeing me. He looks from me to Chris to the Careers, then back to me. I nod sadly. He looks down. He seems to say, "Thought you were different."

To my right I see Chris. He's avoiding my eyes, looking at the Cornucopia. Has to be a Career. So do I. So I turn my eyes back to the metal horn in the middle of the clearing. 30 seconds to go. Those 30 seconds are the earliest I've ever sat through. This is it. They are about to start. I can hear my heart pounding in my chest.

And then the gong goes. I am frozen to my plate, while the other Careers continue slitting children's throats. Even Chris. I should run, join District 3, but something makes me stay. So I watch as the terror begins and grows, waiting for my turn to go.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine is here too. Finally Annie has entered the games, and to say the least, the pregnancy has made her slightly confused. Any ideas? Capital type punishments. Anything. Let me know via pm and most of all, review! Please, please review! Thanks you and enjoy :)**

**Chapter Nine**

My trance is broken by Chris calling my name. I blink and then jumping off the platform I run through the bodies to meet him.

"Annie," Chris yells. I look up. 4

He's running towards me, handing me a spear. "You okay?" he asks.

Well, we're standing in the middle of a bloodbath pretending to be Careers while children die around us, but apart from that I'm fine, I feel like saying but I don't. Instead I smile slightly. "Better now."

"Oi. Come on. We have kids to kill," Tiger calls from the Cornucopia.

I look at Chris. "Your fine," he whispers. Then he stabs the sword behind me, killing a fourteen year old that was about to stab me in the back. I spin around, staring at the boy that falls to the ground, almost feeling sorry for him, but Chris nudges me and I'm back in the zone. Spinning round I head towards the Cornucopia. With Chris got my back, I manage to make it there in safety. Inside I load up on knifes, find spears and even pick up a bow and quiver. Better that then leave it to waste. I even find some survival packs nearer the back. We should be fine. Chris calling my name lets me know I'm safe to emerge. "District 4. Didn't do much killing there did you?" says Marla.

"I was checking out the packs," I say.

"Besides, didn't you see her kill the boy from 6?" Chris lies. I'm not entirely sure I've convinced them, but I don't have the chance to worry. From round the Cornucopia a girl emerges and no sooner has she raised her knife than has the spear Chris handed me entered her body. Butch nods in approval. Even I'm impressed. That, and totally horrified, but I hide that as best I can.

"Wow 4. Didn't think you had the guts to do it," she smirks. The cannon booms twelve times. Twelve of us gone, twelve to go.

There's a silence as we look from each over to the blood stained grass, to the bodies and back again. "What do we do now?" asks Vine

"We should hunt," Butch offers.

I don't know if he means for food or tributes but I don't care. I have other plans. "Shouldn't we collect the supplies, stop the others from getting them?" I ask.

The four of them turn to me and stare. Clearly none of them had thought of that. Especially not Marla, who seems like she's going to explode. Instead she manages to stay under control. "Fine. You two stay here. We'll hunt. Doubt you'll be of much use anyway," she snaps and that's when I know that I'm not excepted as a Career like Chris has been. In fact, the only reason I'm here is because he insisted I was.

He doesn't seem to mind about staying either. "Sounds good. Someone's got to guard the food right?"

More like me. Someone's got to protect me. We watch them leave the clearing, giving them thirty seconds to properly enter the woods, and as soon as they're out of earshot Chris pulls me in for a hug. "Bruises, bumps, cut? Tell me now," he demands.

"Not a scratch thanks to you," I smile coyly.

"I could say the same. So we're all okay?" He asks and I realize he's discreetly asking about the baby.

"Absolutely," I say, trying to hide my smile. He's not doing this just for me. He's doing it for my baby.

"Listen, go you think we should tell them?" he says. The cameras will defiantly be on us now. What's the big secret we're hiding? I know what Chris means. The baby. And the Careers.

"Not yet. It can be our little secret," I smile. I lean in and kiss his cheek. "Don't be afraid to show the audience that you love me though," I whisper.

"We better get to work. The sooner we get done the sooner you can rest," he says.

So I nod and begin gathering up the weapons and backpacks scattered around the cornucopia. I push them to the back of the horn. And then I have a look through. There's many flasks but no water, and one or two packs of food though not enough to keep us alive. I quickly gather the flasks and then gather some of the flasks in one bag. "I'm going to fill the flasks up by the lake," I say.

"Then I'd better come too," he says.

"I'll be fine. It's only the lake. I'll shout if I need you. Keep an eye on the supplies," I say.

Taking my hands, he nods. "Just stay safe. I'm not ready to lose you this early on in the Games."

I blush and walk down to the lake. Damn my blushing. Although for all that we're doing I doubt much that my blushing hinders my performance as a pose to strengthening it.

The lake is even more beautiful than I expected. Stunning even. The surface glitters in the morning sun, rippling and lapping like the beach I miss so much. Running my fingers through the surface I let the water swirl around my skin, distorting my reflection. I fill the bottles, everyone of then. Then I split them I half. I put half in an empty rucksack and another half in the one with the food. I glance around. On the opposite side of the Cornucopia is a tree so big, a hidden rucksack wouldn't be seen. Filled with regret I leave the lake I sneak over to the tree. At the bottom I see a gap big enough for the rucksack with food. I shove it down and them disguise it with sticks and leaves. Then taking the other one I head back. As I'm about to reach the Cornucopia I hear a yell. A yell from Chris. Maybe the careers have turned on him already.

My heartbeat quickens as I panic, my blood pumping so loud in my ears and I scream. I run as fast as I can, dread overflowing. And don't I run fast, but not before I've paused to think it through.

Filled with terror and ignoring my instincts to run away, I sprint back to the Cornucopia where Chris is wrestling with the boy from six. I hide behind the Cornucopia and load my bow. Then i step round the edge and shoot. But to my horror, where once was the back of the tribute is now the back of Chris. My mouth drops open. Please no.

"Chris," I yell. He slams the tribute over just in time to shield his body from the arrow. My knees collapse. Chris stands up, blood pouring from his cheek, his shirt stained with the tributes blood. I manage to force myself to stand and hug him. "I didn't tell you earlier, but when you said you weren't ready to lose me yet, it applied to you to," I choke. I step away and he nods guiltily.

"Snuck up on me. Should have seen him but I didn't," he says. We're both stained by blood now, a mix of the tributes and the Chris's. I empty a bottle of water over his cheek in hopes that it will clean it and then we drink. Then we sit down and wait for the others to return. The cannon booms and I avert my eyes from the tribute. A hovercraft appears and begins collecting the bodies of the dead so far. Then there's nothing left but the scenery and the sound of nature coming to life.

"What do you think?" he asks finally.

"Of what?" I ask, turning to face him.

"The arena. Stunning isn't it?"

I nod. The mountains are beautiful. I've never seen anything like them. And there's grass and flowers. A whole wood of them Finn. I've heard of them but never did I imagine them like this. Last but not least, the lake. It's like a taste of home Finnick. I want to stay near it for as long as possible," I say.

"They'll drag us away sooner or later. And don't be fooled by its beauty. It may be stunning but its deadly, you know that." He says. Suddenly I want to curse the capital for turning something as beautiful as this into a graveyard for kids. It seems so unjust. The capital never is fair, far from it, with a cruelty that words just can't describe. But cursing them won't save me, just insure I get killed either here or after. And its defiantly not going to bring sponsors.

I lean back against him. The day has moved so quickly. That's what game makers do, they speed up days, slow down nights, make it hot, cold, rain, snow. They are the game makers. They control us for their entertainment. And tonight, it's getting darker and colder by the minute. He pulls his jacket to meet mine, zipping them together. As the stars come out I begin to wonder if Dekklan and Mr Rif are looking up at them now at home. Chris knows I'm thinking, slowly slipping away into the land of want to be. Want-to-be-home. Want to be in the sea. Want to be with Finn, Dekk, Gran, Chris and Mr. Rif all together at home. He leans over to kiss my forehead. I look up at him and smile, and his face relaxes.

The boom of the cannon makes me jump twice, which considering we're both on guard isn't good; sudden noise or movement shouldn't make us jump. Then again, since we are zipped together we'd be no help anyway.

If I was to die, right here, right now, I wouldn't mind. After all, I am in Chris's arms, feeling the closest to save as I ever could feel. Then my stomach roles and I know I don't have the option to die.

As my eyelids grow heavy, I begin to wonder if they're never coming back and if we'll never have a meal, but the thumping of heavy footsteps proves me wrong. They're back and they don't sound happy.

Chris jumps to it, unzipping the jackets and sliding away from me. It's okay to make them think he likes me and I like him, but too much and they'll kill us there and then.

They've returned empty handed. They claimed its true, that they did kill two more tributes, but none of them thought about our need for food. I slump onto my side, lying down as comfortably as humanly possible and close my eyes as the anthem begins to play. Chris strokes my hair in a soothing manner and it's not long before I'm fast asleep...


	10. Chapter 10

**This is for you ilovedoodle, just as you asked. I hope its what you wanted. Give me your feedback on what you think, and just to you know, that you so much for reading my book this far. It means a lot to me, so thanks to all of you xx**

**Chapter Nine**

I sit in our cove, waiting for Chris, my eyes frequently dodging from the sea to the cave entrance where very soon Chris will arrive. I am filled wig energy, my excitement for seeing him again overflowing. We meet every Saturday and today is no exception.

I've known him since I can remember. According to his father Chris held me in his arms when I was only three days old. Ever since he went to see 'the baby' on Saturdays, when his father visited my mother. I can't ever remember him not being there. He's like my big brother. As time went on he grew to be more than that. We met up at the beach after school and searched the caves until one day we fell upon the cove. Our cove. For the first time we had the freedom of speech, the freedom to discuss the Hunger Games and what we knew of them, after all, one day soon Chris would be entered for the first time. Now we come here every weekend, spending schooldays elsewhere.

Finally he emerges, but he's not alone. He is followed by a boy with seaweed green eyes, olive skin and perfectly placed hair. I recognise him, though at first I can't put my finger on it.

Chris sits down beside me, shooting me a grin. "Hay. Look would the tide washed up."

I frown. Who is this boy who dares interrupt our weekly routine?

"You know who it is, right? Finnick Odair, the Hunger Games victor."

Oh, of course, I remember now. "You won last year right?"

"That's the one," he says. "Used my trident to spear the tributes. Simple skills you see," he says smoothly.

I raise an eyebrow. "So you won single headedly?"

"Well, I guess when you put it that way..."

"So you had no outside help," i say sharply.

"What can I say? These are the Hunger Games. You all want to kill each other, babe," he says.

"So you mean you never had help from sponsors or escorts, stylists, even mentors?"

"I guess they did do their bit, though the stylist didn't have to work too hard..."

"My grandma is the only reason you're alive! If it weren't for her you'd be prawn toast right now," i snap, narrowing my eyes to glare at him.

"Annie," Chris warns.

I role my eyes at him. "Why is he here? This is our spot. We come here every weekend. I don't need some ungrateful victor coming in here, insulting my grandmother and calling me babe," I say.

"Annie, apologise!"

"No. She's right. I guess flirting has worked on every other girl. I shouldn't assume you're like them. I won't call you babe anymore. And you're right. Mags saved my life," he squeaks in a small voice. For the first time since the victory tour I see a different victor than the flirtatious, big-headed boy with the trident. I see a humbled, sensitive boy. The boy my gran told me about. The boy I know today.

Finn never did come to the cove again. I guess he realised that it was my special place with Chris. He hung out with us after school though, and on Sundays. I began to trust him more, fear him less. I saw the boy that no one else did. They'd left him no choice. But as he explained to me three years later as we sat on the beach, the day Chris was ill, I was different. With me he had a choice.

"That's what I love about you Annie. You bring out another side of me that I've never seen before."

I took him to the cove that day. He told me about his games, about how he had allied with the careers, one of whom had become his friend. He told me how he felt when she had died, the raw emotions that he'd never felt before and never told anyone but me about before. And then he kissed me.

He moved in near us after that when his mother died. I saw him every day. Chris too. The three of us became inseparable. I remember telling Chris about my feelings for Finnick for the first time.

"It happened when you were ill that time. We talked and then he kissed me. And I liked it. Do you mind?"

"If you're happy, I'm happy. You've changed your tune though. What happened to the ungrateful victor who insulted you?"

"All just for show. You should know that," I grin as he splashes me with sea water. Ever since Finn and I became a couple, secret mind, but we knew all of each other's secrets. Even the darkest of secrets...


	11. Chapter 11

**Yes, welcome to the 70th Hunger Games. This is it. Annie and Chris are in the games. She has been torn from what she knows as relative safety and her loving Finnick's arms and now she must go head to head with twenty-three other tributes. The games will test friendships and loyalties, courage and reveal what kind of person someone really is. So here goes, break a leg Annie, and let the 70th Hunger Games begin!**

**Chapter Eleven**

I wake with a start and sit up. I glance around but everything is how it was when i fell asleep last night. Chris lies just to the side of where I previously lay, his hand still clasped tightly around mine. I smile slightly and feel my shoulders relax. I lean back against the cold wall of the cornucopia and watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful compared to Finnick. Right now Finnick would be squeezing me tighter and tighter as he fought against his nightmares, desperate to escape.

I wonder how he is coping right now. Is he thinking of me? Knowing Finn he'll sit up, gasping for breath, silently begging for my soothing voice to calm him down.

But he won't hear it. I turn my attention back to Chris. I softly stroke his face and lie down beside him again. He opens his eyes and smiles. "Hay."

"Hay," I reply.

"You're cold," he frowns, sitting up to grab my jacket.

"I'm fine. You've kept my hands warm," I smile.

"You warmed my heart," he says, and I blush. I look away and bite my lip before looking back. Is it for the camera's or is it the impossible? Does he really mean it?

I shake my head. Of course he doesn't. He knows I'm taken and to tell a woman who's pregnant with someone else's child is wrong. Chris is rarely wrong.

"Can we go for a walk? I love the lake," I say. I don't want to stay here. Marla looks even more ugly in sleep than she does when she's awake.

He stands, pulling me to my feet, grabbing his sword and insisting I wear my jacket. I roll my eyes, smiling fondly and doing as I'm told. I guess Chris is more than like Finnick than I thought. For one thing they both tell me what to do. Finnick is because he battles for control, something he desperately craves, a sense of security. Chris is because he gets protective, as all big brothers do. Do I mind? Not at all. I think maybe it makes me love them more.

By the lake I heave a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. I turn to Chris. He sits down, bathing his feet in the shallows, looking across the horizon as the sun rises. When he feels my gaze he turns to look at me. He tilts his head. "Go on. Say it. What you thinking?"

I sigh, my smile fading. "How are we going to do this?"

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Win. Don't get me wrong, Chris, I love my grandmother but I can't win without you," I say.

"Neither can I," he says in a quiet voice.

"So what are we going to do?"

"You're going to win," he says.

I look at him in horror. "Not alone."

"Yes alone. When we first came to the capital, may plan was to make you win because I loved you. Now, I have other motivations too. You're going to win this Annie, no question about it," he says, and I see the determination Finnick warned me of. There is no fighting it. I have to accept it.

I go quiet, turning my head to the lake, looking out at the first lot of sun that the morning brings. I look back, breaking the silence. "Try," I say. "For me."

He looks back at me, a small smile growing on his lips. "For you I'd do anything." Then he leans over and kisses my cheek.

I know the camera's are on us now. I know by the way the crowd went berserk in the interviews that the capital loves a bit of romance. They'll all be feasting on this. I pray silently that Dekklan and Mr Rif have been warned that this is all part of a plan. Then when we reveal about the baby they won't get to shocked, excited, sad. Whatever a person can feel is a situation like theirs. I wonder for a moment how Finnick feels to watch this. Is it as hard for him as it is for me to be here? I have no doubt of that. But I remember what he said to me before he left me before the games. "Do whatever it takes to survive. I don't care what that means. Chris is willing and you must be too. I love you." Do whatever it takes. So I will.

"Stay by me for as long as possible then," I say.

"Don't doubt it," he says.

"Oi, you two. Get over here now," yells Marla from the cornucopia.

I look at Chris who smiles slightly. "Come on. We wouldn't want to keep her highness waiting would we."

"Don't let her hear that," I warn but I except the hand he holds out to me. It sends shivers down my spine. His warm touch creates sparks I've never felt before.

At the cornucopia I begin to pull away but he doesn't let go. He nods at me. Holding my hand won't make them turn on us. They already knew there was something there from the interviews. Now they'll see us as we fight back. We might be fighting the tributes but Chris and I will fight the capital as well.

"Look at you two soppy love birds. Just get in here. I want my breakfast," Marla says.

"Someone build a fire. I'm going hunting again," Tiger growls, stretching his arms and pulling himself to his feet.

Marla stands too. She looks at me and smirks. "Think you can handle this one, 4, or do I have to do it for you?"

I smile sweetly at here. "I'll try my very best," I say.

"Only because you'll have your boyfriend to hold your hand through it," she says and then grabbing her axe she heads towards the woods, Tiger and Butch close behind her.

"Mind if I stay?" Vine asks.

Chris looks at me and I look at him. Of course we mind. You're the enemy. But what can I do? Say no and she'll kill us. So instead I shake my head and stand to gather some wood.

It's cold this morning. I have goose bumps all over and my fingers feel like blocks of ice. My nose is red and my cheeks have no feeling but I can't help but smile. It's nice on this field. If I could forget the images of the blood bath and the idea of the Hunger Games and this place could actually make me happy, but as Chris said, something as beautiful as this is bound to be deadly.

As I walk I watch the clouds of air raising like the capitals train every time I breathe. By the trees I find wood for the fire, but I don't dare to venture in. Instead I head on the the lake and look for drift wood. After my arms are full I head back and pile it up.

"How do we light it without flint or stone?" I ask.

Vine shakes her head and Chris's shoulders drupe. I sit down next to Chris. "Great, so we have little food and no fire. And it's so cold."

Chris grins slyly and wraps his arms around me. "I'll warm you up," he grins and plants a kiss on my forehead.

At that moment a clunk comes from the roof. "What was that?" Vine asks.

"Let's go see," Chris grins. Outside we stare at a silver Parashoot, which landed right in the centre of the cornucopia.

I fold my arms. "How do we get to it?" I ask.

Vine looks at me. "You're the lightest. We'll give you a leg up."

I'm about to agree when Chris gives an abrupt "No." I turn to look at him questioningly. "You know why not. Not in your condition," he says. I nod. I hadn't even thought of that.

Vine raises an eyebrow but doesn't ask. "Alright. Me then. I'm heavier but I'll have to do."

Chris nods and so we help her up. She scrabbles noisily over the cornucopia until she reaches the Parashoot. She opens it up and gasps with delight. "Flint and stone," she calls down. She stuffs them in her pockets and turns to slide down.

She lands in front of us with a thump. She hands them to Chris who immediately gets to work with them. Inside she turns to me. "How did you know that would work?" she asks.

"What?" I ask.

"The whole _'I'll keep you warm'_ thing. You knew it would get us sponsors," Vine says.

I shake my head. "I had no idea."

She nods and looks away, back to me and my stomach and then back away again. Maybe she's worked it out already. I don't mind if she has.

I turn to face Chris. He lets out an exclamation as the log bursts into flames. I smile at him encouragingly. "Now all we need is something tasty to cook on it," he says.

My heart sinks. We haven't eaten in two days. If they don't bring something home, I have no idea how much longer my baby will last.

"If they don't?" I ask.

"Easy. You and I'll go hunting," Chris says as happily as he can. I'm not convinced.

We sit around the fire, warming our fingers and as much else we can without getting too close to the flames.

I think about Grandma. Is it hard for her to watch this? She explained years ago what she does once the tributes are in the arena. "I have a desk with a phone for sponsors and a keypad of possible gifts to send. Then there's a small screen that follows the tribute the entire time. Finnick has one too." This time they're not joint in mentoring. They aren't having one child each. It's Finnick as captain and Grandma as vice-captain. Does that make them a team the way Chris and I are? Will they share a desk, possible even take turns? Somehow the idea that they are both there for me is comforting and knowing that Finnick will support my grandma helps a lot too. It's also made me realise. Not only will I die, but I'll die right in front of both of their eyes, breaking their hearts there and then. It makes the urge to stay alive much stronger.

I feel small kicks inside my stomach and smile. _'It's okay baby, we'll get you food_,' I think quietly. Chris looks at me and I smile at him. He raises an eyebrow at my stomach and then grins. He knows what just happened. I just hope that Finnick does too.

Does my baby know the danger we're in? Does it know the importance of this time? I just can't tell.

I hear yells of happiness and look up, my eyes widening at the view. Marla and Tiger and Butch are walking back over the grass with a deer being carried between them. And it trails a river of blood from its neck behind it. I swallow hard and look away. Marla has sliced the head clean off with her axe!

Chris looks nervous for a second before composing himself. Vine looks at me and I see a green colour wash over her face. We're both wondering if letting Marla have an axe in these games is a great idea.

"Fantastic. Just what I wanted for breakfast. Let's get it cooking," Chris says, jumping up, an expression of pure glee on his face. At least that's what it seems to them. I can see that behind his smile he's as petrified of the axe as me.

Marla grins as she bumps the deer down and looks at our fire. "Who make that then four? Vine or that boyfriend of yours?"

"Annie did. She got us a Para shoot of flint and stone too. She's more valuable than you seem to think," Vine says quickly.

I look at her. She shoots me a small smile and I decide maybe she's not so bad. I know this could all be a trick to get me to trust her, but to go against Marla means placing herself in danger. She wouldn't do that unless she really meant it, right?

"Whatever. I'm hungry. Someone cook the deer," Marla says.

"Annie?" Butch asks.

"What?" I say, expecting the worst.

"I saw you go to the station about preparing meat," Tiger says.

I glance at the beheaded deer and hid my grimace behind a laugh. "I don't think I'm the person for the job…" I begin.

"Why not?" Marla asks, leaning against the cornucopia wall and swinging the axe back and forth in front of her like a clock on countdown towards the moment I get beheaded just like the deer.

I gulp. "Well, to start with I don't have a knife," I say.

"That's easily solvable. Catch," She says, grinning with delight.

A knife comes spinning through the air towards me, perfectly in line with my face, and it's too late for me to more. A hand intercepts the knife, catching the knife perfectly. Immediately blood begins pouring out of Chris's hand. I gasp as the cuts come into view. He throws it up in the air, catching it by the handle and slamming it down into the deer.

"Anyone who tries to hurt Annie again will end up like the deer," he says coldly. Then he takes my hand - the stream of his blood warms my fingers - and pulls me away to the lake.

By the river he sits down and dips his hand in the water. He skips of his shirt and passes it to me. I rip up a strip to clean the cut with. Luckily for Chris I take it from the rim, and since its long already it doesn't show too much.

"It's deep. Luckily I went to the first aid station of the training centre. Problem is, we have no bandages and the cut it deep." I let his hand drop and look into his eyes. "You're in trouble with Marla now."

"Good. Better me than you," he says sourly.

"You're throwing away your chances of winning," I say quietly. He may have told me otherwise, but unlike him, I haven't given up yet.

"We've discussed it Annie. You're going to win. I'll miss you. I just wish I'd had a chance to see what we could be," he leans over and kisses me, one hand on my belly. I know he does this for show. The kiss is reminding the audience that he's going to die for his girlfriend, even though it all a lie. He's dieing for me and my baby, not because he's my boyfriend, but because he loves me anyway. I am pregnant. But it's not his child and I'm not his girlfriend. And by the look in his eyes he knows it.

I find myself wondering for the first time if, had Finnick not become victor, I would have fallen for Chris. If this would be his baby and not Finnicks. He's always been the sibling I never had, but had he have had no opposition, no setbacks would we be together? Would we even be here now?

Then again, it was through Chris that I met Finnick. I as Chris's tag along sister, and Finnick was the kid that was rejected. Girls threw themselves at him, boys were scared of him. Only Chris was kind to him. I don't know why. They have hardly anything in common. Similarly neither do Chris and I. Maybe it's the fishing lessons they both went to, their only common interest. Then when Finnick began hanging around with Chris, me of course there too, I began to see him less as an enemy, out to steal Chris, and more as my friend too. Suddenly, one day, when Chris was ill, Finnick and i hung out alone. It was then that he first kissed me, and then that he told me the truth about what he did in the Capital. For the first time, he told the story of his hunger games. We'd been together since.

Maybe Chris hadn't expected it to last this long. Didn't want to interfere but was waiting for his moment. And this is as good a moment as he'll ever get.

In all fairness, he could easily win this thing. He has a family, friends, so why is he so set on saving me? Had I have been his brother, would that have changed things? I am beginning to doubt it.

I look from my belly to him. "The truth. As the Chris I knew from home, not the Chris these games have made you, do you love me?"

He answers yes, but it's his eyes I watch. "_With all my heart_," they say and its then I see it for the first time, like clearing fog. He means it. My heart breaks. It's not that I love him. Only a little. Never enough for me to leave Finnick, but I now know why he wants me to win. My eyes fill with tears.

"But Annie. You are... amazing. There are a million boys back home who will offer you their entire hearts. Choose one wisely, knowing who I'd choose for you. I want you to move on, to be happy. Remember me always, but move on, okay?" he adds. I know what he means. He's talking about Finnick. He's saying that if there was another boy he would ever loose me too, he'd what's it to be Finn. He wants me to move on, go back to normal, remember him, but forget all this confusion. He wants me happy. And he wants the baby happy too.

"Then let me love you like never before until death do we part," I say, and kiss him. That must be hard on Finnick, watching that. But I had to say it. For the first time I will love him until he dies for me. I will be his girlfriend because that would be his dieing wish.

"Daddy loves you," he whispers, reminding me that I love Finnick, that I shouldn't cheat, but for what Chris is doing for Finnick, he would want me to do this for Chris.

So I whisper, "I know," and I kiss him again. Placing his hand on my cheek, he gives in to the temptation and kisses me back.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**Sorry I haven't written in a while. Lots of you have been asking for more killing, though personally I don't think that's really Annie's character. Please, If you would just wait, the next chapter will have more killing. Thank you for reading this fanfiction. Also, I have two loyal readers who would love for you to read their fanfiction, for if you liked mine, you'll like ilovedoodle's and AbbyMellark21's fanfiction too.**

As we pull apart I hear a soft splashing but I ignore it. His hand is still on my cheek. His eyes look into mine and I smile, biting my lip. I just kissed Chris, my best friend in the entire world. He's like a brother to me. Is it wierd that I kissed him? Absolutely most defiantly. But I have a strange glow inside that makes me wonder if I liked it more than I should. After all, the small voice in the back of my head keeps saying _'finally. You should have done this years ago._'

The splashing sounds again and I look towards the lake to see a parashoot almost silently moving towards us.

I grin, scooping it out and opening it quickly. Inside is a pot of cream and some bandages. I pull out a slip of paper. "Close to believing it myself. Now wink to assure me it's not true - F"

I look to the floor and then look up to the sky and wink. But then I look back at Chris and I'm filled with doubt and confusion all over again.

I push the thoughts of the kiss to the back of my mind and turn back to the parashoot. I open the small silver pot to find some gel which I guess to be medicine. I take Chris's hand and gently massage it into his cuts. He doesn't flinch. He just watched my face with a small smile, his ocean blue eyes misted with thought. Using the bandages I wrap it around his cut a few times. I find a sharp stone to cut away the excess bandage and place it in the chest pocket for safe keeping.

"Two parashoots so far," I say.

"We must be popular," Chris grins back. I know we're popular. The capital showed us that in our interviews and on the night of the chariots parade. Its because we have romance. Love in a career pack is strange. Doesn't quite match. And they must know that there's more to our story than we're letting on. Its not like we haven't hinted enough.

I stand and offer him a hand, which he excepts, and I pull him to his feet. I keep his bandages hand in mine and lead him back to the cornucopia.

Marla is sitting in the corner, a sulky expression on her face. She glares at Chris who smiles cheerily back. Something or someone has miraculously calmed him down.

Tiger has a smirk on his face, though this is not new. He seems spiteful and cruel and overly pleased that Marla's plan failed. I hate the two of them, more than one can imagine.

I sit by the deer and pull out the knife. "You don't have to do that," Vine begins.

"I know. But I will. Someone find me something to put the guts in. Ready to take to a hole to bury or something," I instruct and she nods. She pulls on Butch's arm and leads him away to search for anything.

I slice open his stomach and open it up, grimacing at the view. I can see it all, the lungs, the heart, the liver, the stomach, all the colour of raw meat, all surrounded by blood. I bite my lip. There is only one way to do this.

Reminding myself that this is a deer, not a tribute I take hold of the heart with my bare hands and begin slicing away. I gulp. I want to screw up my eyes and look away but if I do I could cut myself. I resist the urge to throw up and move to the lungs, then the kidneys, then the stomach.

A hand is placed on my shoulder. I look around. "Want me to carry on?"

I shake my head. "Not with your hand like that. I'll continue," I say.

Chris sits down besides me for support. My hands are now covered in blood and I'm breathing quickly to restrain from bursting into tears. I'm on the last organ now. I look at Chris who looks deep into my eyes. He channels his faith. I can tell my the look in his eyes that he's remembering the kiss. He smiles slightly and I blush. But his faith has given me strength. I cut through the last organ and pull out the ribs. After I've skinned it I cut up the meat, putting the rest in a thermal sheet for safe keeping. Then I wash off the blood... And throw up behind a bush.

"How many months?" a voice says behind me.

I spin around and find myself face to face with Vine. She must have returned recently. "Excuse me?" is all I can manage.

"How many months have you been pregnant?" she asks again.

"I..." Theres no point pretending. "I'm not sure," I say.

"Does Chris know?" she asks.

"Yes. Yes he does," I say. I pause. "You're not going to kill us are you?"

"No. And I won't tell Marla or Tiger either. I'll keep it secret... But I think now is the time to revisit our conversation about allies. Are you sure you want to refuse?"

At that moment I begin throwing up all over again. She moves closer to keep my hair out if my way. She laughs. "He isn't going to be an easy baby, is he?"

"No," I whisper.

Finally when I'm done I walk down to the river and rinse out my mouth. I collapse by the water. Its exhausting, throwing up food I haven't actually eaten. Vine sits next to me. "What's it like?"

"Huh?"

"District 4. The sea and swimming and stuff?" She asks, staring out at the lake.

I smile slightly. "Amazing. It shimmers and glitters as the sun shines on it. It brings up gifts too. Pearls and coral, belonging from shipwrecks. Usually when people get married, they celebrate by dropping a bottle into the sea. It has a message inside, with the two people's names. Its tradition," I sigh at the memory.

"What about swimming?" Vine asks, a look of content on her face.

"Its... unexplainable. You glide through the salty water like you're one of the fishes, and its so right. Chris and I once went diving by the coral reef. That was something I'll never forget," I say, smiling at the memory. It was stunning. I wanted to turn mermaid and stay there forever but I knew I'd have to come up for air soon.

"I wish I could swim," Vine says.

"You can't swim?" I gasp. "Funnily enough, no-one outside District 4 can swim. In district 1 there are no pools or any seas. Not that we have access to," she says. "Its like, you've never been in a woods have you?"

I look at the thick forest, beautiful but deadly and shake my head. "Never even seen one."

"Exactly. I hear District 12 have woods though. They're dangerous, but they still have them."

"District 1, what's that like?" I ask. I remember Chris's curiosity about the other districts and all of a sudden I can't help myself.

"All sparkly and shiny. They have workshops for elaborate furniture or jewellery. But if you ask if any of us own one single jewel for ourselves, you'll find no one who says yes. They're beaten up if they are found to own one," she says. The excitement is clear on her face; obviously Vine loves drama.

"Beaten for owning your own handy work?" I gasp.

"Sure. You can't possibly be telling me that anything the tide washes up you can keep, even though the Capital could find a way to make money from it? Pearls, even coral would be valuable to the Capital."

"Well, belongings from shipwrecks can be used again. Recycling, we call it. Coral is hardly worth much, and honestly, most of us used them for jewellery which we sell to the Capital eventually anyway, and as for pearls, they're very rare. No one would believe you if you said you had one, well, no one that matters anyway," I say, and then bite my tongue, afraid that the Capital now knows something they shouldn't. I pray silently that no one is treated badly due to my unthoughtful thinking.

"Coral," she says suddenly.

"What?"

"Corals a beautiful name. Perfect for your baby if it's a girl. Especially if it has beautiful red hair," she says.

The mention of red hair makes me inhale. Did she know? "Why would my baby be red-headed? Neither of us are red heads," I say, swiftly adding, "besides Chris's father."

Better. No one will question that. Mr Rif's hair is grey, so no one will be able to think otherwise. The connections with Finnick's bronze coloured hair.

"I don't know. An instinct, maybe? So what do you think?"

"I don't know. We have to make it out of here alive first," I say gently, rubbing one hand over my belly.

"Or Pearl. That's pretty too," she says quietly, almost as though she's talking to herself.

"Which is your favourite?" I ask.

"Coral," she says thoughtfully. "I'd use that one. or you could call her Coral Pearl."

"I'll think about it," I say with a smile. Maybe Vine isn't so bad after all.

"Suppose you have to talk to Chris first," she says.

I nod quietly. Sure, let her think that. Its Finnick I'd be asking. But asking myself what I'd like to call my unborn child is not top on my priority list right now. Getting to attached is not wise. Distance is safest in every way. Distance from the love I already feel for my baby, distance from the easy to like Vine, distance from the Career pack with is the biggest danger right now, and distance from Chris. But I'm about as close as I can get to the Careers, seeing as I am one, and Chris, its impossible to even imagine being without him. Still the idea of our destined separation plays on my mind. How am I expected to live without him? It will be easier for me if I except defeat and die anyway, but I can't for my Childs sake. Its a vicious circle, like a whirl pool off the coast of District 4, and every day I am being sucked in deeper, drowning in my fear and sorrow. What will mopping do to save me? Nothing, but there's no way around it. Suffer mental pain or die. They are my options.

Do I even want my child to be born into this corrupt world, where children are forced to fight to the death, and starve and suffer in almost every way possible? Do I want my child being bought but by a victor, a woman who managed to kill children herself? What says that I will restrain from killing my child in a fit of terror as I flash back to the arena like Finnick does so very often? It's all he can do to put as much distance as my bedroom can give between us, so that he have little chance of hurting me. Will I be able to handle myself like that?

I hastily remind myself that I only need to worry about surviving, and then I can think about the deeper questions for my Childs safety. Other victors have managed, I will too, but first I have to become a victor, which means becoming a murderer. And losing Chris, a fact I will never overcome. Even if it means losing, being eaten by mutts, I will not purposefully separate from Chris. Unless one of us dies, we shall spend every waking minute together. Starting now.

I stand up. "Sorry. I have to get back to Chris. You coming?" I ask, trying to compose myself from my deep thought.

"Sure," she says, standing up. "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul. You're secrets safe with me... for now. As for our aliance?" she asks.

"You're on. Right now I need all the help I can get. But that means Chris too. We come as a pair too you know," I warn.

"Absolutely." She sighs, pitifully. "You know, I think we could have been great friends. I'd have liked that." Then linking her arm though mine she pulls me back to the cornucopia.

I am shocked for a moment, and I'm sure it shows on my face, but as long as I don't become too attached, a new friendship won't hurt, will it? Every instinct in my body tells me that, yes, it will hurt very much, but I don't care. Already in the games I crave my grandmothers loving care, and if Vine's bubbly character is they key to that then I'll find a way to survive the pain. I will do what it takes.

At the cornucopia she let's go of my arm and looses the smile so easily that I wonder if she's just an actor, and if this whole friendship is just an act to gain my trust. But no, it can't be. I make a promise to myself to enjoy her company but not to give up myself to her, to not let the wall I've built fall, for both Chris, myself and my baby, for our sakes.

Rounding the corner I resume my position by Chris. They pass me some well cooked deer, and Vine gets a little more rare piece. I screw up my nose, the memory of the guts bringing a lump to my throat. Chris looks at me expectantly, refusing to take it back, and I see there's no way around it but to eat it.

"She doesn't have to eat it. I'll have it instead," Tigre says, but Chris shoots him a glare and he backs off.

"She'll eat it, given a chance," he says.

I take the smallest bite, thinking of images other than the deers bloody heart, and soon discover just how hungry I am. When Marla and Tigre aren't looking, Vine passes me the other half of hers. I frown, but Chris seems to have no problem in excepting. He takes it, cooking it for a few more minutes (overly cautious about food poisoning) and then passes it to me, giving me the look so that I can't decline.

I decide not to grumble, as Gran wouldn't be impressed. I'm in the games where twenty-four tributes are starving and I'm turning down extra food. If the other tributes knew that they'd probably kill me themselves.

After our late breakfast comes the matter of what the hell to actually do with ourselves. We have no cards, no means of entertainment, nothing to busy ourselves with. We just sit around, sharpening our weapons, wondering how long we have left before the game ends and one if us becomes the winner. I know that, despite our differences, we are all bored stiff, feeling like we could bang our heads against the cornucopia walls any time now. I would do anything, anything would be better than this. Finally I can stand it no more. I jump to my feet and pull Chris up to, grabbing my weapons and passing Chris his. I even shoot a questioning look at Vine, who nods and stands.

"Where are you three going?" Marla asks.

"Hunting," I say, pausing to turn to the others. "Its got to be better than this."

"Butch?" Vine questions.

"Sure, why not?" Butch sighs, scrambling to his feet and taking his weapons too.

"Marla? Tigre?" Chris asks, a look of indifference in his face.

"No thank you," Tigre purrs. "We'll keep guard." More like discuss the bunch of us. Not that I mind. I'd rather be away from them than with them.

I'm not sure how I feel about Butch coming. He seems undecided about his loyalties. He's not one of us. Chris is only just considering Vine as a real ally, let alone Butch, but he's not one of them, despite that he doesn't mind hunting. But just because he's not afraid to kill doesn't mean he's a murderer, does it? No, it can't do, because Chris and I have killed. We're playing our parts.

It's like a game of chess. The careers are the kings and queens and the others are, well, the others. They play a slow, sometimes painfully game until one wins. The lone victor. But even then, who is the real winner? Only the Capital. We can fight for our lives, but still we don't save them. Puppets, that's what we are. No control, we do as we're told, no hope of any other life. This is what we're destined to.

So as the four of us begin to walk towards the trees, I take deep breaths. I won't just except my fate. None of us will. Look out Capital, because we're fighting back.

**So they're off hunting. Thats bound to mean blood and guts. Thank you again and please keep reading. It means a lot to me that you guy take your time to read and review. :) **


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry its been so long. I was suffering with writers block but I am back and writing again, with a Twilight fanfic too now. :) Anyway, here you go, (finally) here is chapter 13.

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**Chapter 13**

Once we are out of the sights of Marla and Tigre, I turn to Vine, looking at her questioningly. "We can trust Butch," she says. "He's in my class at school, and we all vowed to be loyal to our district partner, though not in the same way as you, obviously," she adds with a grin.

Butch looks between us in confusion. "Tell who what?"

"Nothing. Its need to know only. It won't do you any harm not to know," Chris says.

"We do need to hunt," I remind them. "If we return with nothing they'll become suspicious."

"More than now?" Chris snorts at the idea of it.

"She's right," Butch agrees. He seems to be on our side, but placid and indifferent at the same time.

"Are you up to that?" Vine asks.

I begin to open my mouth, the word yes on my tongue, but Chris places a firm hand on my shoulder and interrupts. "No. We'll give her a knife and some wood and she can make a snare. Someone should stay with her."

"That's me out," Butch says. "I'd rather hunt."

Vine smiles apologetically at me. "Same here. I'm no good with my hands."

"That leaves me," Chris says.

Suddenly it strikes me that to Jaden, our relationship can't be looking very believable. We'll have to do something about that. I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face in his shoulder. "You should go. I'll be fine and your talents will be wasted here."

"I'm not leaving you," he says stubbornly.

"I know that. You promised. You're just getting some food and then you'll be back."

He doesn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"

"We'll be fine. Go make friends."

Vine laughs, but Butch frowns. "We?"

"Slip of the tongue," I reply.

I don't think he believes me, but he gets that he shouldn't ask. He understands that this is part of he need to know.

Chris sighs. "Fine. I'll go. But you should know I'm not happy about this."

I smile slightly. "Sorry."

He hands me his knife and I frown. "You need it," I insist as I push it towards him.

"Not as much as you. Vine and Butch have got my back. You'll have no one. Look, maybe I should stay..."

"No. I'll take the knife, I've got the wood and rope, I'll make a snare. Go, now, and don't come back until you get some food. I'm starving."

Butch snorts - evidently he's noticed my growing appetite.

"Only if you don't waste it this time. No throwing it back up," Chris says.

I giggle and he pulls me in for a hug, squeezing me tight. "I promise," he whispers.

"I know."

He takes his knife and passes it to me, sitting me under a tree with wood suitable for snares which he insisted on collecting himself much to Butch's annoyance. Finally he is satisfied that I'm safe - I'm just surprised he doesn't place me in a cave. He crutches down beside me and strokes my face. "Stay safe."

"I'll try," I smile weakly.

He checks that Butch isn't looking, which he isn't, and then tilts my face to his and kisses me. "I mean it. Stay safe."

I nod and then he's gone. I want to shout out to him to stay as I'm far from happy on my own, but instead I bite my tongue and get to work on the snares, trying to remember everything from training. Its not easy, as training feels like ages ago. How long have I been here now? Only ten of us left, over half of us gone already. At this rate, the games will be over quickly. The sooner the better, I say.

No, I don't say that. Because the sooner they're over, the sooner either Chris or myself and my baby are dead. And I don't want that ever. In these games, its hard to know the difference between what can happen and wishful thinking, and right now, I'm using wishful thinking. Wishing both Chris and I can survive, but knowing that can never happen. There is only one winner, right?

But do they actually win? What does the victor gain? The chance to return to their families, or the option to doom them as mine is. First Grandma went into the games, then Finnick, now me and Chris. That can't be by mistake. And most victors are haunted by nightmares and flashbacks for the rest of their lives. Victors have to go back to the Capital every year to mentor and watch more kids go through the same thing as them. Never free. The only reason I have for trying to escape these games and doom myself to all that is my baby. And even he isn't safe. Because if almost everyone in my family has been reaped so far, my baby is likely to be too. Just think, the great-grandchild of a victor, the son or daughter of a victor and a supposedly dead tribute, though that won't be entirely true.

I have the power to stop my child's from being like that, but that means doing one thing: stopping my child's future all together. And that I can't do. Any life has got to be better than no life. So I will fight, and I will sacrifice my happiness and freedom for it. No matter the cost. Even of Chris is the cost.

No, I can't do even that. I will fight, but only to an extent. I won't allow Chris to die for me. Not ever.

A rustle to my right brings me back to earth. I freeze, falling silent. There it is again, closer, louder. My hand slips round to my knife, but just as I am about to get it, a hand grabs mine and another wraps around me to cover my mouth. "Don't scream," a voice says. Its male. "Don't make a sound."


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry its been so long. Was stuck on what to write, but here you go. What do you think? Please let me know in PM's or reviews.**

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**Chapter 14**

I stay ridged still, shaking uncontrollably, my eyes wide with fear. "Where is that boyfriend of yours? Shame he isn't here to save you," the voice snarls. "Haydon will be so pleased."

His fingers slips and I snarls as best I can. "Let me go. He's on his way right now, so you better get out of here."

"Is he now? Perfect. Just what we want. You see, we were hoping that he would show up along with your other career friends. You see, it's a trap, and you're the bate."

A chill runs down my spine and I almost choke. "You can't win against the Careers."

"Really? Not even if all the other tributes gang up for a mass slaughter?"

I feel a swirling in the pit of my stomach and I swallow hard. The phrase 'butterflies in my stomach,' doesn't begin to cover it; more like a nest of killer bees.

"Clearly you haven't met Marla," is all I manage to say. Suddenly a knife is to my throat, pressing hard but not hard enough to choke me.

"The team is going to be so pleased. Let's get you over there."

He helps me to my feet, tying a rope around my wrists so tight I feel blood beginning to trickle down my fingertips. The boy dips his fingers in and writes a place name of a bare bit of bark. Then he turns me round and I see for the first time the cruel, malicious smile.

I recognise him vaguely as the boy from district seven. I scowl at him as he grins, wiping blood across my face. "Pretty little thing you are. Shame you won't survive to show the world."

Show the world? You don't get more publicised than this event. I can almost guarantee we are both on the big screens all over the country right this minute. More to the point, I can almost guarantee that the thousands of Capital Citizens are chanting at the screens for him to kill me.

"Who is your team?" I growl through gritted teeth.

He shrugs vaguely. "Different tributes who thought it was time to show the Careers a taste of their own medicine. You'll get what's coming to you."

"Have you lost many so far?" I ask.

He pauses, his silence speaking a thousand words. "My district partner was the first to go you know? My friend at school," he says.

I nod. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Doesn't sound very Career-ish," he grunts.

"It's not. I'm not. I trained yes, but that doesn't make me selfish and heartless. The only heartless people in these games are Marla and Tigre. They're the ones you should want to kill, not me and Chris, not even Vine or Butch. Mind you, they'd probably kill you before you got within five miles of them."

He growls. "We're stronger than them. We haven't trained, but we have numbers, and we have one thing in common. We have hearts."

"No one's stronger than Jaden when she wants to kill," I say, trying to keep a composed face. "I've seen it."

"Pah. You couldn't hurt a fly. I doubt you've seen a dead body in your life before, not even in these games. Well, that's all about to change."

"Maybe, but which bodies will the dead ones? Are you willing to risk your life for a bunch of kids that have to die for you to win, and a rebellion against the Careers that you can't win anyway. Your hate for us will get you nowhere."

"Shut it, District 4. Nobody want to know what you think, you're a blooming Career," he snaps as if here is someone else nearby. Maybe there is.

I shrug. "Fair enough. If you insist. But don't say I didn't warn you."

He places a knife into the small of my back in answer and I take the hint. I keep my eyes wide only, trying to seem calm and collective when inside I'm panicked to hell and back. If it was really that easy to catch me, without a fight or a chase or anything, Chris must be in danger. And I'm no use to him like this.

I inhale sharply what a thought so despicable crosses my mind. _'If he's in danger, at least his death will be over with sooner rather than later_.' I almost scream when I realise what I've thought. I don't want it in the slightest, but even the fleeting thought is damaging. How horrible I am. I don't deserve either Finnick or Chris. How can someone love someone but wish him dead rather than themself? Maybe because I know that when it comes to it, Chris will be the one to go, not me. Because Chris will die for me.

"What if I promise to help?" I ask, my voice shaking. I no longer try to hide my fear, instead I focus on the idea that I deserve to die after that thought. Why not let him think I'm weak? "If I were to co-operate, would you spare Chris and Vine… even Butch? Focus your aim on Jaden and Tigre."

"You said yourself that they would be the most deadly, and we want to wipe out every opposition we can in one go. Saves time and effort you see."

"I could tell you their secrets," I offer.

"Like? What is there that I don't know?" he says, and I see in a moment that this is purely a selfish thing, his actions stemming from his rage and need for revenge. The rest of them are just his helpers, merely lead to believe that they will find justice. To give themselves more chance. In reality, he hopes most of them will be wiped out in the fight. He thinks he's the victor.

_Not if the games makers can help it,_ I think to myself, _or else the Capital will have a very short game. They'll want it to last longer. Maybe if I help make them last that little bit longer, they'll turn the games in my favour. _

_Never, _I remind myself, _do the games makers turn the games in anyone's favour. They don't understand debt or loyalty or anything of the sort, just entertainment and the need to kill. They don't even understand love. I very much doubt they care that they have blood of many children all over their hands. 1,587 children so far, excluding the children so far of _my _games. _

"Jaden is excellent with an axe. She chases you until you're too tired to run and then slowly kills you. Unless you hide. She's blind in her left eye," I lie. "If you stay out of her left eye view, you could probably catch her off-guard."

"Really?" he asks, stopping abruptly. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Because I have a lot to lose," I explain. "More than you know." I try to sound as sad as possible, allowing my voice to waver, and my hands to shake, my eyes to drop to the ground.

"Oh yer? We all have a lot to lose. What do you have that the rest of us don't that could make everything about you so much more tragic than the rest of us?"

My hands are so numb I can barely feel them behind my back, but I still feel the urge to wrap them round my stomach. "I can't tell you."

The knife digs harder into the small of my back, drawing blood from the small yet painful cut. I give a small yelp. "Tell me."

"A baby." He freezes again, this time staring shell shocked into the distance. "I know how you feel," I murmur. I was shell shocked too, once.

Yet unlike me he manages to pull himself together quicker, beginning to walk faster. "Really?"

I nod sadly.

"So who's the father then?" I recognise the tone of voice; he doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm lieing, just to gain sympathy. Hardly.

"Another slight problem. Chris. You know, the boy from my district?"

"The other Career?"

"That's the one," I say. I have a bad feeling that confessing all this will get me nowhere, if not in a worse situation than I'm already in, but I continue anyway. "Just my luck isn't it, to get picked whilst pregnant, my district partner the father of my child. I guess the odds were never in my favour."

Yes, Capital, I remember. I know you've picked me before, I know you killed my grandfather, I know you took my grandmother away every year too. I know that my boyfriend is forced to sleep with hundreds of strangers every year for your gain. And I know what you have in store for me. But I'm fighting back. I WILL survive.

"Never are when your parents or grandparents were previous victors," he grumbles.

I frown slightly. "Are you referring to anyone specifically?"

"My mother was a tribute at the age of fourteen years ago, then my father at age sixteen two years later. They fell in love and married. They had my big brother, who was picked last year. He was one of the first to go. Then they had me. And here I am. Fate? Or was it done on purpose?"

I gasp. He won't survive long if he keeps talking like this. But he has a good question. I don't think any of these games are down to fate. I think he is in the games as punishment, for his parent's marrage. Maybe Snow planned the same fate for them as he did for Finnick, but since they married, he couldn't. Maybe I'm here as punishment to my grandmother, for the same damn reason. Or maybe as punishment to my grandfather, for saving me when he shouldn't have. To prove that no one can escape. The Capital concurs all.

"Fate," I say. Because I want the Capital to think I don't know. That unlike this boy, I will never question the motives or courses of my life. So that they know I could still win.

"Suit yourself. I know what I think," he says. We keep walking further into the woods, though he seems completely comfortable. Not a single worry about who could be hiding. At least, I know where Jaden and Tigre are. It won't be long now until Chris discovers I'm missing.

"Please let me go. I'll bring Jaden to you, I promise. Just, let me go to Chris." But my begging is useless.

"This is the plan, now we stick to it."

As if he's heard, a cry of pain echoes round the forest. "_Annie_!" it yells, the heart ache and sorrow enough to break me, to kill me.

"Chris!" I yell back.

"Annie!"

"I'm okay!"

"Where are you?"

The knife presses hard into my back and I wince. "I can't tell you. But I'm okay."

"Tell him to come find you. Tell him to bring Jaden and Tigre and all the others. That there are lots of weak tributes," District Seven demands.

He is stupid if he belives that Chris won't realise that I'm being forced to say all this. He will guess as soon as I say weak. I would never tell him that way. He'll understand it's the exact opposite. But I will tell him, just as a warning anyway. And with one word, I will let him know I don't want him to come for me. I want him to stay safe.

"Tell him!" District Seven demands, shaking my violently.

I pretend to be pained, left with no choice but to do as he says. Tilting my head back, squeezing my eyes shut, I let a tear fall, but not for the reason he thinks. Because I will be killed when they don't come. My child and I. But Chris will be safe, and that's all that matters.

"Come find me Christiaan! I need you. There are so many tributes, but you're strong, you could beat them. They're weak Christiaan!"

There's is a silence. "We'll come for you," returns the heartbroken call. He knows the truth behind my message. He's caught on. He knows by the way I call him Christiaan. He knows that I would never call him by his full name. Never. And he understands that that is my warning.

"I love you!" I yell back, for District Sevens benefit and my own. Because I will never see him again, and I want him to know everything. To know that he must win for me.

"I love you too Annie, remember that."

"I will," I whisper through silent tears. "I will."

"No more," District Seven demands. "Keep walking. You'll see him again soon enough." I can almost hear the cruel smile on his lips.

"I hate you," I say. "And when we die, we will haunt you until the day you die, Chris, myself, our child. Our blood will be on your hands, and we will never leave you, not once, not ever."

He hits me round the head. "Shut up! No one wants to hear that. All's fair in this game. We are all chosen, we must all die. You included. And only one can survive, for the rest of us. And this year, it's going to be me."


End file.
